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“ You see it’s a sight of work to do anything 








THAT BOY OF NEWKIRK’S 


VrVZ 


BY 


L. Bates. 


iv 



BOSTON : 

D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY, 

FRANKLIN ST., CORNER OF HAWLEY. 



COPYRIGHT BY 

D. LOTH ROP & CO. 
1878 . 



* 


• i 















CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER F. 

THE FIRST STEP 

CHAPTER II. 

CORDON’S FIRST VISIT HOME . 

CHAPTER III. 

REUNION 

CHAPTER IV. 

INASMUCH 

CHAPTER V. 

TEMPTED . . . . . 

CHAPTER VI. 

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW 

N 


7 


26 


34 


46 

57 


64 


iii. 


IV. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

UNVEILED 

PAGK 

. 78 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE QUESTION .... 

... 88 

CHAPTER IX. 

OUT OP THE HUTS . 

. 97 

CHAPTER X. 

CONTENDING FORCES 

. 109 

CHAPTER XI. 

AT HIS BEST .... 

. 118 

CHAPTER XII. 

HELPING ALONG 

. 130 

CHAPTER XIII. 

SMALL BEGINNINGS . 

. 138 

CHAPTER XIV. 

ROUSING THE ENEMY 

. 146 

CHAPTER XV. 

COUNTING THE COST 

. 152 

CHAPTER XVI. 

COUNTER INFLUENCE 

.161 


CONTENTS. 


V, 


CHAPTER XVII. 

DRIFTING 171 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

FARTHER OUT *179 

CHAPTER XIX. 

COMING TO HIMSELF . . . .193 

CHAPTER XX. 

A NEW ATMOSPHERE .... 202 

CHAPTER XXI. 

STEPPING HEAVENWARD .... 208 

CHAPTER XXII. 

A NEW ENTERPRISE .... 220 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE LAW AND THE TESTIMONY . . 22T 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING . . . 235 

CHAPTER XXV. 


CONCLUSION 


244 





THAT BOY OF NEWKIRK’S. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE FIRST STEP. 


Y ALLOO, Gordon ! There’s a lot of us boys 
going over to the mill, trout fishing, 
come along ? ” 

The lad addressed was coming out of a smart 
looking grocery, with his arms filled with pack- 

7 


8 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


ages, to be stowed away in farm wagons drawn 

up before the door. He did not stop ; only a 

* 

swift look as lie said : 

“ If I had leisure, Frank, I would like to go.” 
“It is Saturday,” returned Frank, with a cer- 
tain independent air, as though the privilege 
might be claimed as a right. 

“Saturdays are our busiest days,” answered 
the young clerk, depositing his parcels with an 
eye to their reaching home in good condition. 

“ Just go and ask Mr. Newkirk,” plead Frank. 
“ Say to him you will bring home trout enough 
for supper, you may have all I catch.” 

“ Hurry up there ! Don’t be all day about 
it ! ” came from the shop. 

With alacrity the lad made his way in and 
out of the grocery, and soon the wagons drove 
off. 

“ Hatching up some kind of mischief I’ll be 
bound,” exclaimed the man inside. “ That is 
the worst of it with a boy, he has so many fol- 
lowers,” his voice falling to a minor key. 


The First Step. 


9 


Gordon brushed the dust from his coat sleeves 
and hastened back to the desk. 

“ Ready, are you ? ” was jerked out. “ Then 
you can take these letters to the officd, and the 
money to the bank. Make no mistake. Here 
it is,” Mr. Newkirk said as he took a roll of 
bills from a secret drawer. 

Frank Nesby was waiting on the corner. 

“ Cross as a she wolf. If I were in your 
place, Newkirk would look out for somebody 
else,” was said as Gordon came up. 

“Hush, Frank! If you were in my place, 
you would do just as I do.” 

“Not I,” with energy, “ I would run away the 
first thing.” 

“ Would that make life any easier? ” 

“ Maybe it would, and maybe it wouldn’t,” 
returned Frank in q,n easy nonchalant manner 
which told plainly enough that the current of his 
life run in a smoother channel than that of his 
friend. It was some time before Gordon an- 
swered. 


10 


That Boy of Newkirk's . 


“ It makes all the difference, Frank when you 
have a mother and little sisters to depend upon 
you.” 

“ That's a fact,” answered Frank with a touch 
of sympathy in his voice. 

There was little doubt but Gordon had thought 
the matter over, and come to a decision that 
kept him quiet through very helplessness. 

Mr. Newkirk was not a hard man. He had 
no idea of being severe ; the grasping, money 
getting habit, was a part of his very being, he 
could not remember the time when he did not 
plan for gain. The free joyous abandon of the 
bare-footed trout-fisher was not in his experi- 
ence. He cared not for the clear, rippling water, 
and white pebbles, with sly trout glancing in 
and out of mossy coverts and tangled webs ; the 
time stained log with its uplifted branch curved 
into a luxurious seat; the cool expanse of green 
leaves; the tender carol of birds — with the old 
mill and its broken wdieel : there was no money 
in these, consequently Theron Newkirk as a boy, 


The First Step. 


11 


and Mr. Newkirk as a man, never indulged a 
thought with regard to them. His feeling was. 
If Gordon Ferril cared for them, it was a fool- 
ish idea, and must be curbed, or crushed out of 
him. Before the boys reached the bank Caleb 
Benton joined them. 

“If this isn’t jolly! So you are going Gor- 
don ? ” asked Caleb, as he wound up his line 
and made the hook secure. 

“I am going no father than the bank,” was 
answered calmly. 

“Newkirk won’t let you? ” came quickly. 

“ I did not ask him,” returned Gordon. 

“ Neither did I ask, I am here though, I said 
to old Bluebeard, mother was sick, and I must 
stay at home and help her.” 

“ How could you, Caleb ! ” exclaimed Gor- 
don, “ some day your mother may be really sick, 
and if, Mr. Falcon knows you have once de- 
ceived him, he will have no confidence in you.” 

“The old woman is strong, she won’t come 
down in a hurry.” 


12 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“Who do you mean by the old woman?” 
asked Gordon. 

“Who should I mean? we were talking of 
mother,” returned Caleb sharply. 

“ Why did you not say mother ? ” persisted 
Gordon. 

“ What’s the difference ! anybody would have 
known.” 

Other boys were joining the group. 

“An age, since you’ve been with us Fer- 
ril,” exclaimed one. 

“ I am glad you are to go,” echoed another. 

“ That’s the joke ; he’s not to go,” Caleb re- 
turned. “ Newkirk is a regular meat-axe, I say 
boys, let’s be even with him, I can fix him.” 

“Caleb Benton take care how you talk, or 
you go out of this ring,” cried Frank with a 
quick imperiousness, that would not brook any 
underhand movement. 

“Keep cool, Frank! Gordon never has any 
fun,” returned Caleb. 

“Not to-day boys, not to-day,” said Gordon as 


The First Step. 13 

he ran up the steps of the bank, “some other 
time, perhaps.” 

With all his manliness, Gordon Ferril could 
not deny, that he would like to fling his line 
into the brook ; many a time he had done so and 
been rewarded with a basket of speckled trout 
for his mother’s table. Other thoughts came in 
quick succession, and uppermost the memory of 
that day when his father was brought home, a 
mangled, lifeless body ; the withering, deaden- 
ing anguish, he can feel it yet. And when it 
was over, when all that remained of his father 
was hidden away under the coffin lid, now his 
mother put her arms around his neck and said, 
despite the tears, 

“ You are all we have to depend upon now, 
my boy.” 

More than all the trout-fishing is the thought, 
that his service may bring rest to his mother’s 
heart. The time will come, perhaps — and 
brushing his brown hand across his eyes, the 
lad hurried down the street to the grocery. 


14 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Mr. Newkirk was standing in the door. 

“ Gone ! Have they ? ” was asked with mock 
gravity. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Why didn’t you go ? ” while a subtle smile 
played about his lips. 

“ I did not for a moment think that I could 
go, Mr. Newkirk,” was said modestly. 

“ Frank Nesby asked you ? ” continued the 
shopkeeper. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

There was no reply, and Gordon added pres- 
ently. 

“ I said to Frank, that Saturday is our busiest 
day. Besides, I expect to go home to-night, 
and I have a good deal to do.” 

The straight forward, manly action pleased 
Mr. Newkirk, the peculiar expression of his face 
changed. 

41 As to going home, Gordon, I do not see how 
we can spare you just now.” 


The First Step. 


15 


“ You promised, if I would remain last Satur- 
day, I might leave an hour earlier to-day.” 

“ Did I ? ” arching his eyebrows as he spoke.” 

A quick, upward glance was the lad’s only 
answer. 

“ Come to think of it, I reckon I did,” added 
Mr. Newkirk, moved by some sudden inward 
purpose ; “ and, if, I did promise, you must go, 
but it is mighty inconvenient to have a boj' run- 
ning home every week or two.” 

Whatever the reason, this man who had no 
memory of ever being a boy softened percepti- 
bly ; not once urging the lad to make haste ; 
and when he was ready to leave, calling out to 
him with evident good humor. 

“ I will send your mother a taste of my Hy- 
son, and there’s the raisin box, Susie and May 
will expect something.” 

Mrs. Ferril lived on the outskirts of a small 
village, five miles away from Fern-Hill. It was 
a long walk ; but his mother’s house stood at 


16 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


the end of it, and possibly his sisters would 
come half way to meet him. The thought gave 
elasticity to his step, he forgot the weariness of 
the day, waves of golden splendor swept along 
the sky ; while birds in the green branches of 
the trees, made the air musical with their even-’ 
ing songs. On the right the river glittered like 
a silver ribbon trailing its length over the flow- 
ery meadows. The old mill and the wheel moss- 
covered and broken, reflected the dazzling bright- 
ness, and he seemed almost to hear the shout of 
the trout fishers calling to each other on their 
way home. 

With so much beauty around him, Gordon 
forgot the weary homesick feeling that had 
haunted him. His thoughts ran out on ,tlie fu- 
ture and what it might hold in store for him. 
In all his plans his mother and sisters must be 
consulted, and, as far as possible he must make 
the way smooth for them. To do this, he must 
not leave them to conjecture from a listless, 
weary air, that he is not perfectly contented at 


The First Step. 


IT 


Mr. Newkirk’s. The longer he dwelt upon it, 
the stronger grew his resolve. He knew how 
much they missed him at home, and he loved to 
be missed. It was his anchor, his stronghold. 
Where love abides temptation does not tarry. 

The quick thud of hoofs broke the thread of 
Gordon’s meditation, and presently an open 
buggy, drawn by a large bay horse, and driven 
by a lady came up. 

“You have walked very fast, Gordon; or the 
man at the grocery made a mistake in the time 
you left,” began the lady. 

“ I’m a rapid walker, especially when my face 
is turned homeward,” returned Gordon, coming 
to the side of the buggy. 

“ You will not object to drive for me ? ” smiled 
the lady. 

“No, indeed,” he replied jumping into the 
buggy and taking the reins. 

“ I should not have had the courage to drive 
Chester, had it not been for the expectation of 
taking you up at Fern Hill. Mr. Noble was 


18 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

writing his sermon and the business was press- 
ing.” 

Mrs. Noble was the pastor’s wife at Edgefield, 
and whatever she could do, was done, that her 
husband might devote himself exclusively to his 
work. 

“We missed you last Sabbath,” was said 
pleasantly. “Next to my own children come 
the boys in my class. Did you attend church 
at Fern Hill?” 

“ I went to church ; but .not to Sabbath- 
school. You say that you missed me, Mrs. No- 
ble, you cannot know how homesick I was.” 

“ I remember when I left home for the first 
time,” Mrs. Noble replied, glancing into the in- 
genuous face of the lad. “It was my first reali- 
zation of the happiness centered in my home; 
the depth of love and care that had ever been 
mine, I cried myself to sleep and woke with 
but one longing in my heart, I must go home, I 
must see my mother ; every cross word I had 
ever said came up before me. I could think of 


The First Step . 


19 


nothing on my part but ingratitude and lost op- 
portunities, I longed to tell those dear friends 
just how much I loved them. After that I was 
from home a good deal ; but I never felt again 
the intense homesickness that took possession of 
me then to the exclusion of everything else.” 

“ I believe I have thought of everything I 
ever did, or said,” Gordon returned after a 
pause, “ I must get accustomed to staying from 
home.” 

Brave as he tried to be, Mrs. Noble saw the 
struggle, she thought of the long, weary days, 
the daily routine of shop life, the longing for 
sympathy, above all, the effort to go on for the 
sake of doing right, to get accustomed to stay- 
ing from home. The tenderness of a mother’s 
heart shone in her words. 

“It is pleasant to think we have a Friend 
who will never forsake us, unless we repel him. 
The older I grow, the more I prize this Friend. 
The more I lean upon his strong arm, the dearer 
he is to me. Is this Friend yours Gordon ? ” 


20 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


With a quick, upward glance the lad an- 
swered. 

“ I am afraid I do not entirely lean upon him. 
If I did, should I be troubled over things, as I 
am now? ” 

“How troubled?” a persuasive tenderness 
winning the lad’s confidence. 

“You know mother expects me to do well; 
and I often fear that I shall disappoint her,” was 
answered modestl}*. 

“Do you believe the Bible, Gordon?” 

“ Certainly, I believe the Bible,” a puzzled 
look creeping over his brown face. 

“ The Bible says whosoever will may come, 
and whatsoever he asks, God will regard. Does 
not this inspire confidence ? ” 

“Yes ma’m. But how often we make mis- 
takes ? ” answered Gordon seriously. 

“ So long as we trust him, he will not leave us 
adrift. Even our mistakes will be turned into 
stepping-stones leading us on where we can catch 


The First Step . 


21 


clearer glimpses of our Guide and the way we 
are to follow,” was the answer. 

“ I am all the dependence my mother has. It 
is for her comfort, that I try to do well,” was 
said with a rising inflexion of voice that denoted 
determination. 

The lad was thinking of his father. Mrs. No- 
ble saw it and added. 

“You have suffered a sad bereavement; but 
God saw it was for the best. Not a sorrow 
should we have to bear, if he saw how we could 
be made pure and good without it. The refin- 
ing process is to bring us to his image. The 
jewel that is to be set in his crown must first be 
cut.” 

“ Some have a great deal more to bear than 
others, do they not? ” Gordon asked. 

“ When you and Willie were at school your 
lessons were never precisely the same,” Mrs. 
Noble returned, with the hope of making the 
subject plain. “Willie was older, and in ad- 


22 


That Boy of Newkirk's . 


vance, and you still had the ground to go over. 
But you loved each other, and you never 
dreamed that his lessons were easy and yours 
hard to stud}'.” 

“ Willie’s lessons were no easier for him than 
mine were for me, I suppose, but he was more 
accustomed to study,” was Gordon's reply. 

“It is thus in God’s great school, Mrs. Noble 
continued. “ Each pupil has a lesson in keeping 
with the position he is to occupy in the world. 
Wherever it is, it will be a post of honor, and 
he must labor to gain it. Then it will be a re- 
sponsible post, and he must strive to keep it. 
Always the reward will be in keeping with the 
service. If we are good 4 weii done ’ will be 
sweeter than the sweetest music we have ever 
listened to. On the contrary, if our work is 
neglected, or but half accomplished, our reward 
will be accordingly.” 

“Sooner or later every one must learn,” Gor- 
don said, as if giving vent to some keen, inward 
emotion. 


The First Step. 


28 


“ There is a serving time, a complete appren- 
ticeship,” continued Mrs. Noble. “ Blackstone 
says that a barrister was considered a learner for 
sixteen years. In Paris in the olden time, an 
apprentice served five years learning his trade, 
and another five as a companion for his master 
before he was considered fit to become himself a 
master in his trade.” 

“Then each day we have one of God’s les- 
sons ? ” Gordon asked. 

“ Each day is a leaf in the life given us,” Mrs. 
Noble answered. “Just as the page in a new 
book must have careful research and concen- 
trated study before it yields the precious return, 
so we must study to win from every hour the 
blessing it brings.” 

“Apprentices receive little or nothing for 
what they do,” said Gordon. 

v 

“ God's apprentice receives continually and 
from the outset,” she replied. “ And still there 
is a looking forward to the prize when the work 
is accomplished.” 


24 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Chester's step quickened. He was nearing 
the stable. Gordon’s heart beat faster ; lie was 
almost home. Through vine-shaded windows 
he caught the soft radiance of a' lamp, and saw 
two eager little faces looking out into the night. 

“ Chester knows where we are to leave you,” 
Mrs. Noble said. At the same time she made a 
movement to take the reins. 

“ Will you not let me drive you home ? ” ven- 
tured Gordon. 

“ No, Chester knows the way.” 

“Susie and May were at the gate. 

“We have waited and waited, you cannot tell 
how glad we are, Gordon,” exclaimed Susie 
pressing forward and seizing her brother by the 
hand. 

“ Mother was afraid you wouldn’t come ; but 
you are come. And, Gordon I’ve studied ever 
so much since you went away, and I’ve got a 
white kitten, every bit, only her toes, and Susie 
gave her a blue neck ribbon to fasten ’round her 
neck, and she’s just the prettiest and nicest kit- 


The First Step. 


25 


ten,” exclaimed May in the joyousness of her 
heart. 

It makes me think of Willie,” was Mrs. No- 
ble’s mental conclusion, as she reined Chester in 
at her own door. “Just as glad should I be to 
see my boy, as Mrs. Ferril is to see hers.” 





CHAPTER II. 

Gordon’s first visit home. 


HERE are turning points in each human 


life ; times when revelations are made, 
and glimpses of truth and duty rise up before 
the soul, stirring thought, and exciting action. 
Something akin to this was going on in Gordon 
Ferril’s mind, as Mrs. Noble set him down at his 
mother’s door. The sudden shock of loss and 
bereavement had sent him into the world de- 
pendent upon his own resources, sorety tempted 
he had been, and now he seemed faintly to real- 
ize that life was a school. God’s school with 
26 


Gordon s First Visit Home . 


27 


the clays for leaves, and the hours for lines to be 
studied, recited and acted upon. He caught a 
new meaning from lessons already learned. He 
felt a new spirit to do and to bear. 

The girls were jubilant. 

“ Look ! ’ v cried May running about the room 
with the white kitten in her arms, “ I am almost 
as tall as Susie, and I can wear her dresses.” 
The bright face lighting up with merriment at 
the thought of slipping into Susie’s old dress. 

“ We have got a bird,” began Susie, “and we 
are taking lessons, and when we are older, per- 
haps we shall give lessons, or concerts, I am not 
quite sure which, and get money.” 

Gordon smiled in spite of himself. The. bird 
and the lessons and the concerts, in any event it 
was all associated in Susie’s mind with getting 
money. Looking up archly he said : 

“ If this is the case you will want your big 
brother for basso.” 

“Of course we shall, mother will. never be 


28 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


willing for us to undertake anything of this 
kind without you,” laughing merrily as she 
spoke. 

May put down the white kitten and took her 
seat by the side of Gordon on the chintz-cov- 
ered lounge. 

44 O, dear ! I am so glad 3^ou are come. You 
can’t ever know how sorry we get and we cry 
sometimes,” looking into her brother’s face. 

Gordon put his arm around her and drew her 
still closer. 

44 Do you cry because your lessons are so very 
hard?” 

44 Not that ; but we cry, I guess it’s because 
we are lonesome.” 

44 May, you must not say such things. It 
sounds babyish,” interrupted Susie. 44 If we 
are lonesome and cry sometimes it isn’t to be 
told of.” 

“I just told Gordon. I think he should 
know,” persisted May. 


Gordon’s First Visit Home . 


29 


44 1 think so too,” replied Gordon smiling 
down into the pretty pink face. “ That’s just 
what I came home for, to see how you get 
along.” 

Yes, but it’s not right to cry,” spoke up Su- 
sie 44 mother says when yoii’r poor and have got 
no father, God expects you to be cheerful. And 
I mean to do so.” 

Even the supper table, laid with more than 
usual neatness failed to stay their busy tongues. 
Gordon must not know how sparing they were 
of dainties during the week. Mrs; Ferril, with 
that womanly repose that made her in her son’s 
eyes superior to every other woman, spoke but 
seldom. Only when Susie and May were asleep 
did he learn, how much he was missed at home, 
and how glad his mother was that he had staid 
and tried to be faithful to his employer. It was 
an hour of sweet communion, the boy telling of 
his resolves to do well ; not omitting his tempta- 
tions and struggles. 


80 


That Boy of Neivkirlcs. 


“ Do you tliink I can do it, mother ? ” said he 
hiding his face on her shoulder very much as he 
used to do in his babyhood. 

“If you do right, my son, for the sake of right, 
I see no reason why you should fail.” 

“ Right for the sake of right, mother ? ” 

“ God looks at the motive, at the heart, my 
boy. There is an underlying principle behind 
every act. If for His sake the good is accom- 
plished, the reward is sure to follow, although 
the act may prove a failure to the view of some 
men.” 

“Are not all failures alike?” asked he, lift- 
ing his eyes to his mother’s face, “ we try to do, 
and we do our best, and fail and lose courage. 
If one can but be sure he is on the right track.” 

“ If we ask aright for guidance, we may go on 
confidently, we do not make the path, we simply 
walk in it,” smiled Mrs. Ferril. 

“But sometimes in the morning I have asked 
and at night I have been conscious that failure 
was set down over my work,” returned Gordon. 


Gordon's First Visit Home . 


81 


“Failure when we do our best, is a discipline. 
In this way it is in reality a stepping-stone to 
something still more desirable,” was the answer. 

“ Do you believe, mother that work and wages 
go together ? ” 

“ The currency thsit we expect, we may not 
receive ; but the lessons of wisdom by which 
our purposes are purified, and our lives made 
better, are of far more worth to us than coffers 
filled with gold. Patience is born of discipline. 
We have learned to labor; the great lesson is to 
wait.” 

A restful feeling crept into Gordon’s heart 
and shone on his upturned face. Henceforth he 
would not so much mind if Mr. Newkirk was 
hasty. He could come home occasional^, and 
by and by his hope would be realized in a house 
of his own with his mother to preside over it. 

“ Life has more in it than we readily discern,” 
Mrs. Ferril added after a pause, “doing one’s 
duty well compensates more quickly and more 
freely than we acknowledge ; just as seed scat- 


82 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


tered in spring time is seemingly lost; but in 
autumn we see that the black mould hid, but 
did not destroy the golden grain.” 

“Encouragement for us to go forward,” smiled 
Gordon. 

“Every day sowing seed sure to spring up 
into a harvest but all uncertain who will gather 
in the harvest,” was the answer. 

Gordon rose to his feet to say “ good night.” 

“ It is not every boy who has a mother like 
mine. If, I succeed it will be all your work, 
mother.” 

“ Mine to help you, Gordon. Give God the 
praise,” she answered lovingly. 

Long after Gordon was asleep, Mrs. Ferril sat 
at the casement. Stars were twinkling in the 
sky, and the moon threw her radiance over the 
outer wall. It was a comfort to have her chil- 
dren again under her roof. Every da}', Gor- 
don was absent, she had followed him with her 
prayers. Now he had come back to her stronger 


Gordon's First Visit Home . 


38 


and with a more intelligent idea of what the 
world offers. 

“ O, God,” she cried “ keep his heart pure and 
his hands clean. Uphold him with the right 
hand of thy righteousness, and lead him in a 
plain path, for thy names sake.” 

The flickering light of a lamp fell over the 
narrow stair, Gordon’s door was ajar. A mo- 
ment the mother lingered, she could not close 
her eyes without another look, “So like his 
father,” she whispered, with trembling fingers 
she pushed back the tangled curls, and touched 
her lips to liis. forehead with yearning prayer for 
her boy, a frail barque on the ocean of life, 
“ God shield him.” 



CHAPTER III. 



REUNION. 

tORDON opens his eyes with a delicious 
sensation of being at home. A new ap- 
preciation of his bed leads him to nestle down in 
the white pillows ; -so cool and nice, he wonders 
why other beds are not made up just as his 
mother makes hers. The pretty pink and white 
counterpane is drawn smoothly over it ; the cur- 
tains are spotless, and the walls are hung with 
pictures, making the room fit for a king to sleep 
in. No wonder he has slept soundly. A sense 
of rest takes possession of him. lie is at home 
and it is the Sabbath. Through the half open 
shutters he catches a glimpse of the church and 
34 


Reunion. 


35 


the church steeple. Once he considered it a 
a marvel of architecture. It does not seem as 
wonderful now, his eyes are more accustomed to 
forms of beauty. He has a new standard by 
which to measure the beautiful. Mrs. Noble’s 
house stands just below the church; the creamy 
blossoms of the woodbine fall over Willie’s win- 
dow, and there’s the willow tree with the seat 
in the branches where they used to study their 
lessons. Pigeons are flying over the roof. Now 
they sweep down to the curbstone catching the 
sunshine on their wings ; then darting away in 
arrowy flight; resting on the tower and the 
steeple, and looking with calm indifference on 
the world below. 

Willie Noble is in college. For a moment the 
old charm comes back, a questioning spirit 
creeps into Gordon’s heart. He does not mean 
to give way to it : but it is there to dim the 
brightness. Possibly it was not right to yield 
up his cherished plans, some way would doubt- 
less have opened for his mother and sisters. 


86 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“But your father made you his representative,” 
pleaded an unmistakable voice from within, it is 
your duty, you dare not throw it aside.” 

Through the hall comes the faint patter of 
feet and presently Susie’s voice calls out: 

“ Are you awake, Gordon ? ” 

The door opens. 

“I thought it was early,” Gordon answered, 
“ and here you are ready for church.” 

“ Mother says it is a waste of time to dress 
twice, Sabbath hours are precious you know.” 

“ Yes, I know it, and I am afraid I have not 
begun the day very profitably,” returned Gor- 
don. 

“ Mother said we must not disturb you. It 
must be a rest-day to you.” 

“ It is ! You cannot know how glad I am to 
be at home once more.” 

At the foot of the narrow stairs in the open 
door-way the two girls met him an hour later. 
May held a small willow basket in her hand 


Reunion. 


37 


and in it a robin’s nest with, four young ones 
nearly ready to fly. 

44 Some cruel boy must have killed the old 
bird for we found the nest on the ground, and 
the little ones spilled out,” she said. 

44 And you intend to bring them up ? Quite 
an undertaking,” laughed Gordon. 

44 We hang the basket up out doors during the 
day,” May returned, 44 and I believe some of the 
old birds know what we are doing and they pay 
us in music.” 

Susie went into the garden to gather a few 
late pinks, adding geranium leaves and blossoms 
to brighten up the breakfast table. Gordon 
hung the basket on a limb so high the white kit- 
ten could not reach it, while May tied back the 
cover. Then scattered crumbs of bread. 

44 You spread their table for them,” smiled 
Gordon. 

44 Mother says it is not enough for us to desire 
the birds to come, we must throw out induce- 
ments for them to come.” 


38 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


The words touched a chord in Gordon’s heart. 
“ It is not enough to desire the birds to come, 
we must throw out inducements — ’’ just in 
this way he thought, when we desire to do good, 
we must not sit still and hope for the best, we 
must act. The birds might, perhaps come of 
themselves. But shy and not knowing the treat- 
ment they will receive, the bread wins them. 
Going back in thought to Fern-Hill he remem- 
bered many times when he had wanted Caleb 
Benton and Frank Nesby to take a different 
course. But he did not offer an inducement. 
May’s desire was followed by an invitation ; an 
invitation so appetizing that the birds were sure 
to come. Was there not in this a lesson for 
him? 

As they made ready for church May said in 
a low voice to Gordon : 

“Last Sunday Mr. Dyer followed us down 
the street to ask after you. I told him ’twas 
awful lonesome for us without you.” 

“ Thank you, May. But you must not say 


Reunion . 


39 


awful. Don’t you remember Mrs. Noble said 
4 awful is not a good word for little girls.’ ” ^ 

The fresh brightness of the morning was 
around them. Gordon felt thankful for the 
privilege of again walking to church with his 
mother. Lifted out of his boyhood through cir- 
cumstances, a weight of responsibility rested 
upon him that he dared not throw aside. Meet- 
ing old friends, he questioned if, they knew how 
much older he felt. He had no words to de- 
fine it ; but he realized the necessity of labor on 
his part, labor that rose, as a barrier between 
him and his old associates. More vrould be ex- 
pected of him, no longer to be cared for ; it was 
for him to care for others. Crowned by sorrow 
with the prerogative of manhood, he was to 
reach forward. Not as a man ; but as a boy 
who had the hope of one day doing more than 
he was now doing. 

When they reached the church, Mrs. Noble 
was standing in the vestibule. She turned and 
reached out her hand, saying : 


40 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ I was sure you would be here,” with a smile 
that went to Gordon’s heart. 

Everywhere people were coming. It had 
never seemed to Gordon such a privilege to wor- 
ship God. The beauty of Holiness was written 
upon the walls. Every seat was occupied. Mr. 
Noble spoke with the unction of one conscious 
that he was the bearer of a message from the 
Highest, to some poor, faiting soul in that as- 
sembly. At the last he held up the picture of a 
finite being questioning the Infinite and closed 
by saying : 

“ The beauty of an Eclipse is not seen while it 
is in the process of construction, only when 
the scaffolding is removed, and that which is of- 
fensive to the eye is taken away does the beauty 
dawn upon us ; the perfection of work ; the ele- 
gance of cornice and architrave ; the fitness and 
harmony of the parts. Our unconscious cry 
then is ‘ Beautiful ! ’ The perfection of united 
skill and labor ! 

“Thus in God’s great plan, we see but in 


Reunion . 


41 


part, we comprehend but in part. But when 
the scaffolding is removed, when these fleshy 
bands are laid aside ; then shall we be able to 
comprehend the grandeur and perfection of what 
now appears a confused mingling of odds and 
ends without plan and without purpose.” 

As the people left the church many were the 
greetings. Not a soul there but had known sor- 
row, and each had questioned why it must fall 
to his or her lot ? 

Mr. Dyer was there and as usual eager to 
learn how it was with Mrs. Ferril and her chil- 
dren. 

“ Whenever I feel shaky, Mr. Noble sets me 
right up. Things don’t seem so strange when 
we know everything comes by God’s orders,” he 
said. 

“ Do you ever doubt this, Mr. Dyer ? ” Mrs. 
Ferril asks with a smile. 

“ Not exactly doubt, perhaps. But you know,” 
turning a sharp look on Mrs. Ferril, “ there’s a 
sight of folks think we are too little for God to 


42 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


take any particular notice of. I can’t argue 
much, and sometimes when I listen, things get 
mixed up, and I don’t feel as sure about it.” 

“In that case you have only to turn to your 
Bible,” Mrs. Ferril said. 

“ I know, and I do read it every day. But it 
don’t do me the good it does to hear Mr. Noble 
explain everything.” 

“ Is not this because you so readily believe 
what the pastor says ? you never stop to ques- 
tion when Mr. Noble is in the pulpit,” she 
asked. 

“ Of course, that’s what he’s there for to make 
clear the meaning of every verse,” returned Mr. 
Dyer. 

“ God speaks to us in plain language. All we 
have to do is to receive it without questioning,” 
was the reply. 

Mrs. Ferril was not sorry to see the young 
people walk forward. Mr. Dyer was a goo*d 
man ; but he had his cloudy days. She came 
up in time to hear a gray haired woman say : 


Reunion . 


43 


“ I used to consider it hard, and sometimes I 
thought God had forgotten me. But it won’t 
be long now, the scaffolding is worn in many 
places. It will soon come down. 

The speaker was Gordon’s old nurse. He 
was walking with her. 

Susie and May came to Mrs. Ferril’s side. They 
walked slowly. It was one of those occasions 
when the channels of joy were full, the blessed- 
ness of being together making them glad. 

As they reached the gate, Mrs. Ferril stopped 
for Gordon and Mrs. Kennett to come up. 

“ I pity the people who have no Sabbath,” 
Susie said with a sweet seriousness in her eyes 
that gave an expression of beauty to the entire 
face. 

“How no Sabbath?” questioned Mrs. Ferril. 

“People who never go to church,” was the 
reply. 

“It’s not altogether going to church,” Mrs. 
Kennett answered, coming up in time to hear 
the last remark. “ To dress and go to church 


44 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


is no more having a Sabbath than it would to be 
to say you have had dinner, because yesterday 
you went out and purchased food. Before you 
have dinner the food must be prepared and you 
must partake of it.” 

Gordon was thinking of his life at Fern-Hill ; 
how greatly he missed the Sabbath service and 
it’s effect upon the days that followed. 

44 It is like having something to stay one up,” 
Mrs. Kennett continued, 44 1 should go to church, 
if for no other reason ; because it makes Mon- 
day run smoother than it possibly could do with- 
out it.” 

44 A strong reason in favor of keeping the Sab- 
bath,” observed Mrs. Ferril. 44 God never re- 
quires any service of us, without granting us 
some corresponding benefit.” 

44 After all there’s a good deal in the influ- 
ence,” spoke up the old nurse, laying her hand on 
Gordon’s arm. 44 It is easier to keep right than 
it is to get right after being wrong. Everybody 
is a magnet to draw others to him, or to repel 


Reunion . 


45 


them. How is it with you at Fern-Hill. Are 
you trying to carry out Mr. Noble’s teaching ? ” 

“ I am trying,” was all the lad could utter. 

“I’ve heard say it was a hard place, and 
you’d have all you could do to stand up, and I 
think of it every day, who knows but your go- 
ing there may be the means of a good work, 
Gordon ? ” 

Tears were on the old nurse’s cheeks, she 
wiped them away with her withered hand and 
took her leave. Gordon followed her with his 
eyes, then turned to his mother. 

“ You are not the only one to be troubled if I 
fail, mother.” 





* 




CHAPTER IV. 

Inasmuch. 

HE sun was rounding into a fiery ball as 
the young clerk entered the village of 
Fern-Hill. Mr. Newkirk was already at work. 

“ So you kept your promise to be here at sun- 
rise !” was the greeting. 

“ I tried to keep it,” said Gordon throwing 
his cap aside and sweeping the curls from his 
heated forehead. 

“ I didn’t expect you to walk your legs off 
lad. All well at home ? ” 


“ Quite well, sir. My mother sent her re 
46 


Inasmuch. 


47 


gards, and my sisters were pleased to know that 
you remembered them/’ 

“ All right ! now go for your breakfast.” 

“ I have been to breakfast.” 

“ Been to breakfast at this hour ! Your 
mother is a smarter woman than I gave her 
credit for being.” 

“ Possibly you do not know my mother,” was 
said a little proudly. 

“ There ! there, lad I did not intend anything 
against your mother.” 

There was a ring of kindness in the voice. 
Gordon looked up bewildered. 

“ My mother expects me to be faithful to my 
duties. To know that I failed in anything 
would trouble her.” 

The new lesson was beginning to work in an 
effectual manner. The young clerk felt that 
the best way to influence Mr. Newkirk was to 
prove faithful to duty. The germ of good, if 
there were really a germ of good within him, 
must work outward in corresponding acts. The 


48 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


pattern he had before him seemed not merely 
faultless, but altogether lovely. 

Mr. Newkirk turned away; whatever was 
passing in his mind he was not inclined to let 
his clerk see it. To tell the truth the walk thus 
early in the morning to keep his promise and 
prove faithful to duty, broke him down more 
than a volume of words would have done. It 
was the act speaking louder than any form of 
words, showing a determination to do right at 
the expense of physical comfort. Perhaps the 
time will come when he will see with a clearer 
vision, that principle is always principle,' and 
when the springs of the heart are pure the daily 
outward life will be in keeping : just as the tiny 
rills and sparkling meadow brooks are clear and 
pure, when the sources from which they spring 
are clear and pure. 

At night Caleb Benton came in. 

“How are you, old fellow? ” said he to Gor- 
don. “ Haven’t seen you for an age.” 


Inasmuch. 


49 


“ I spent the Sabbath at home,” was the an- 
swer. 

“ I didn’t, I never do.” 

“ I think you would be happier through the 
week if you did ; ” Gordon replied. 

“ I came pretty near having a square fight to- 
day,” said Caleb. 

44 Who with ? ” Gordon asked, with ready 
kindness. 

* 4 Bluebeard himself? ” laughed Caleb. 

44 Mr. Falcon ? Is it possible ! ” was the ex- 
clamation. 

44 Possible ! of course it is ; neither is it the 
first time. We are always at it.” The tone was 
flippant ; but Gordon saw there was deep feeling 
behind it. 

44 What was the trouble ? ” was asked without 
the air of curiosity that awakens distrust, rather 
than confidence. 

44 He found me out, as you said he would. 
You see I got oft Saturday by telling him the 


50 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


old woman was sick. It was not so far out of 
the way either ; for she’s been complaining a 
sight. Sick or well, she’s never easy. Before 
night he saw her out, and what does he do, but 
walk straight up to her and ask her what was 
the matter.” 

“ Nothing,” she answered. 

“ Caleb told me you were sick and needed him 
this afternoon.” 

The old woman looked blank, and so the 
whole thing came out. Such a flare-up ! I don’t 
mean to have another.” 

U I am glad to hear that,” returned Gordon. 
“But, Caleb, I shall not be sorry for you as long 
as you call your mother old woman.” 

“ She isn’t my mother. I never had a mother ; 
never had anybody to care for me.” 

His look was so expressive : and his words so 
sad. Gordon was moved with pity. “ No 
mother!*” And the question came up, what 
would have become of him had his mother died 
in his early boyhood ? 


Inasmuch. 


51 


“I care for you, Caleb,” lie was led to ex- 
claim, “as long as you care for yourself. But 
who is she, if she is not your mother? ” 

“ She is Mrs. Benton, my father’s wife.” 

“ Mrs. Benton ! That sounds better,” Gordon 
answered while a smile played around his lips. 

“Does it?” gasped Caleb. “Then I’ll say 
it, as frequently as I can think of it.” 

“ You did not finish what you were saying of 
Mr. Falcon,” said Gordon, his thought leading 
backward. 

“ The long and short of the business is, that 
he as good as discharged me. Then he thought 
the matter over and took me on probation. 'I’m 
pretty sure to fall from grace ; it’s just my 
luck.” 

The light, flippant tone pained Gordon. Once 
he w T ould have turned from him. But Caleb 
was so free to confess his short comings, so frank 
in his avowal of wrong doing, he could not bub 
hope for something better in the end. 

“I know you consider me awful wicked, 


52 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Gordon ; but I can’t help it. It’s in me and 
must come out.” 

“ I wish j^ou would not talk in this way, Ca- 
leb, when you do, I feel as though I would 
never have anything more to do with you. 
Then again. I know how really kind you are, 
and how capable you are of doing anything you 
undertake to do, and I feel like holding on to 
you.” 

“ Nobody cares for me ; not even father.” 

“ You have sisters, Caleb ? ” 

“ I have a sister. But she is married. Mrs. 
Benton has a lot of little folks though.” 

Gordon thought of his mother and the course 
she would like him to pursue. He was not sure 
that he could influence Caleb for good. At that 
moment he longed to take him home with him. 
If anybody could help him it would be his 
mother, and next to his mother, Mrs. Noble. 

The moonbeams slanting through the dusty 
panes, touched Caleb’s hair, and fell across his 
flushed cheeks. With boyish brusqueness that 


Inasmuch . 


53 


was intended for a cloak to Lis feelings he 
jumped up. 

“ Come ! come ! I can’t stand this. Let’s go 
for a sherry cobbler. I feel like a blue jay with 
my mouth done up.” 

“Do you expect me to go? Do you really 
mean to go yourself? ” Gordon asked. 

“ Why not ? ” 

“ We have just been talking of reform. Does 
this look’like it, Caleb?” 

“ As well expect a leopard to change his 
spots. It is in me ; it’s my nature.” 

“No more than it is mine,” replied Gordon. 
“Don’t talk to me! I know better. Are 
there not good and bad people in the world? 
Some have to be good, and some have to be bad. 
You can’t change them, I am one of the bad 

I 

ones. Salt won’t save me.” 

“ Caleb Benton, there is more real good ma- 
terial in you than in any other boy I know. 
Try as you will to hide it, it will crop out.” 
Caleb’s face fairly shone. Gordon’s honest 


54 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


warmth touched the possibilities of his nature. 
Wicked as he felt himself to be. Gordon had 
hopes of him. Somebody recognized a capabil- 
ity for something better than he had yet shown. 

“ Promise me one thing ? ” Gordon asked af- 
ter a pause. 

“ Promises are of no account,” returned Caleb, 
not willing to commit, himself. “I have prom- 
ised ever so many times.” 

“ But this is different.” 

“ Plow different ? A promise is a promise.” 

“We are boys trying to help one another.” 

“ Not much ! ” interrupted Caleb. “ I am not 
trying to help you. You do not need it.” 

“ Do you, Caleb ? ” 

“ Yes,” came quickly. 

“ May I help you ? ” 

“If you can.” 

“ On one condition.” 

“Name it.” 

“Now and henceforth you will keep from 
drink.” 


Inasmuch. 


55 


“ Sell my liberty ! not even for you, Gordon 
Ferril. You have no right to ask it. It isn’t 
manly.” 

“ Is it manly to drink ? ” 

“ Men do it,” returned Caleb sharply. 

“ Is it manly to drown your intellect, to ruin 
your prospects in life, to lose your health, to 
wreck your soul ? ” Gordon continued. 

“ Fie ! Gordon you’re a regular exhorter. If 
I’d thought of that I’d have stayed at home. I’m 
no methodist.” 

Caleb’s hand was on the door knob, the next 
instant he would be in the street. Gordon gath- 
ered courage. - 

“ Caleb will you go home with me another 
Saturday? It is not much fun to walk five miles 
alone. If you go along it will be delightful.” 

The invitation given so pleasantly brought 
Caleb back a few paces. Ilis face showed evi- 
dent satisfaction ; his tone was entirely changed 
as he answered : 


56 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ Perhaps I will, that is, if Bluebeard will let 
me.” 

“ Mr. Falcon ? ” laughed Gordon. 

“ Yes, if you are particular,” he said, with a 
smile that told plainly his vexation had all van- 
ished. 

“ I will send my mother word when to expect 
us. She will be glad to see any of my friends.” 
Gordon said at parting. 

Once in his room the young clerk found it dif- 
ficult to check the tide of feeling. In trying to 
help Caleb, was he compromising himself ? Caleb 
was not a youth whom Mr. Newkirk wholly ap- 
proved. Still, he was only doing as he would 
like to have another do by him. 



CHAPTER Y. 

TEMPTED. 

power 
mills ; 

but as yet the railroad did not come within as 
many miles. True, business men, and Mr. New- 
kirk in particular, had talked about the expedi- 
ency of building a road ; arguing- for and against, 
as men intent upon any business will argue. 
Still, years rolled on, and the money that should 
have been put into the railroad, was turned into 
other channels. The sign of “ The Eagle ” was 
freshly painted, and the hotel stood invitingly 
open, with new rooms, new billiard tables, new 

57 



ERN-HILL could boast of a water- 
sufficient to keep alive a dozen 


58 That Boy of Newkirk's . 

saloons, and new hopes to mislead and ruin the 
unwary. 

Caleb Benton was in the habit of dropping in 
after his work was done. It “ rested ” him. Be- 
sides, it made him feel “more like a man.” It 
was a pleasant place. The softened radiance of 
lamps rendered it cheerful ; books and newspa- 
pers and pictures were scattered over tables. 
There was a general card-room and another for 
drink. Suppose he did drop in, he was not 
obliged to go beyond the reading-room ; some of 
the most respectable young men in the village 
were to be found there. True Mr. Falcon ob- 
jected to this, and so did Gordon Ferril. But 
he did not propose to follow another’s lead when 
it crossed his inclination. To have Mr. Falcon 
always on the watch angered him. What busi- 
ness had he to say — 

“ You will drink and you will play ; if you go 
in. Take my advice and keep as far away as 
possible.” 

When Caleb left Gordon his thought was to 


Tempted. 


59 


go directly liome. The stir of a new emotion in 
his heart determined him to hide away in the 
darkness. He was too soft hearted to meet an- 
other just then. Doubtless the expression of 
his face would betray him. He could not bear 
to be laughed at — and tears ! Did Gordon see 
them ? Of course he was thinking of his mother, 
the mother he had never known ; but the mother 
he longed for more and more, as he grew in 
years. Other boys had mothers to bear with them 
and advise them. Concious as he was of wrong 
thoughts in his heart, and wrong acts in his life, 
he could but think it would have been different 
had his mother lived. And a hard feeling crept 
in, a feeling that he had not been dealt with 
justly. Why did God take his mother? and 
why was lie. left to his own capricious feeling? 

As Caleb quietly passed along his way, thus 
musing, he noticed that the door of “ The 
Eagle ” stood most invitingly open. He heed- 
lessly went up the steps just as a young man 
came staggering out, with curses and impreca- 


60 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


tions, reeling away into the darkness. He is re- 
solved, if he goes in he will not drink. The 
music sounded strangely sweet ; the click of 
dice was in his ear. Noiselessly he walked 
across the porch. But few men were in the first 
room ; the merriment came from beyond. With- 
out greeting he seated himself at a table nearest 
the door. His hand mechanically reaches out 
for a paper ; while his eye rests upon a picture 
on the wall representing a pretty peasant girl in 
the act of offering cake apd wine to the guests. 
The apartment is sumptuous ; the expression of 
the various faces shows a supreme delight. A 
basket of grapes stands on the table ; cool and 
refreshing seems the entire picture. The love 
of pleasure is stirred ; the appetite is awakened. 
The paper trembles in his hand. At this mo- 
ment the door swings back and two lads enter. 
Seated in the shadow they do not observe him. 
One is Eddie Stephens. His cheeks were flushed 
and his voice loud. Rumor says Eddie Stephens 
is even now a hard drinker. Only last week his 


Tempted. 


61 


Sister Fanny was almost heart-broken to see 
him brought home stupid with drink. Caleb 
shrinks still farther into the shadow; they do 
not see him, they go into the next room. 

The music comes louder, sweeter, more invit- 
ing. Caleb starts up. He is free to think. 
Suppose he follows, just to see what Eddie is 
doing ? Doubtless Fanny would take it as a 
favor. Now a short, thick man with bristling 
gray hair staggers through" the open door ; stops 
a moment to look around with his bleared eyes; 
sees nothing apparently, and> goes on. As the 
second door opens and closes behind him impre- 
cations float out on the fumes of tobacco and 
alcohol. He sees Eddie reel and fall. It is in 
his heart to spring forward ; the next instant he 
longs to escape. The memory of Gordon’s words 
give him strength and he flees from the place. 
He reaches home and climbs up to his cheerless 
room, exhausted, he cannot sleep. 

As the stars shine out, Caleb kneels at the 
casement and looks over the way to the scant 


62 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


chamber where Gordon sleeps peacefully. He 
does not excuse, or palliate his faults. If he 
succeeds ; at times he feels it possible, it may be 
by dint of resolution. He must begin by put- 
ting down caprice and impatience. Above all, 
if he would preserve the friendship of Gordon 
Ferril he must not so much as enter “ The 
Eagle.'’ His drinking associates must be cast 
aside. Just now Gordon’s appreciative words 
are a tower of strength to him, the generous 
qualities in his nature are stirred ; he feels 
grateful to know there is one who has faith in 
him, one who feels the possibilities of his being 
something better than he now is. Bathed in the 
silvery moonlight he feels that he can do it, that 
he will do it. It shall not be said of him, as of 
Eddie Stephens, “Drink is ruining him.” It 
is not a change of purpose. As yet Caleb does 
not know that he has a purpose. But it is a 
determination to do right for the sole considera- 
tion of winning commendation from Gordon 


Tempted . 


63 


Ferril. Gordon sees good in him and for Gor- 
don’s sake he will put forth the effort. 

Once more he tries to sleep. But waking 
thoughts are peaceful to those that sleep brings 
him. Now he is confined in a burning building ; 
while evil spirits dance around him and taunt 
him with his helplessness. Then he hangs over 
a terrible gulf. The prop to which he clings is 
insecure. He totters, falls, and the next instant 
feels himself upborne and flying through space 
with Gordon Ferril by his side. 

When Caleb awoke the sun was shining. It 
was not all a charm ; the resolve to do faithfully 
according to his best convictions was real. 




CHAPTER VI. 

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW. 

f was more than a month before Gordon 
salized the coveted pleasure of taking 
his friend home with him. In spite of his re- 
solve Caleb had come short many times. Still, 
he had tried, and ’the consciousness that Gordon 
knew all his failure and still clung to him, was 
in itself a safeguard. At length the day came. 
It would hardly be possible to say which was 
the happier. Gordon with the full knowledge 

of all a visit home implied, or Caleb with antici- 
64 


Old Friends and New. 65 

pation of something far beyond any former en- 
joj^ment. 

44 1 did not ask him but once,” he said with 
reference to Mr. Falcon, 44 1 believe he would let 
me go with you anywhere,” as they started on 
their walk. 

44 That is because I go but seldom,” laughed 
Gordon. 

44 That is because he trusts you,” returned 
Caleb seriously. 

44 Is it not because he trusts you ? ” asked 
Gordon looking his companion full in the face. 
44 Do you not try to please Mr. Falcon more than 
you used to, Caleb ? ” 

44 1 try to please him more frequently, I think ; 
but you must not give me credit for always do- 
ing it,” he said a little bitterly. 

44 True, you may not always succeed to the 
full measure you intend : but Mr. Falcon sees 
the effort, and it leads to confidence on his part, 
and a more frequent desire to please you.” 

44 Perhaps ! ” Caleb replied, his eye following 


66 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


the gauzy wing of a butterfly. Then sadl} r , as, 
if he realized his utter helplessness. “ You al- 
ways feel like it, Gordon. You cannot know 
how hard it is for a fellow who has to bite his 
lips to keep from speaking out.” 

“ I always feel like it ! ” echoed Gordon a lit- 
tle mystified. 

“You always feel to do the right thing. I 
don’t. It isn’t in me. I try. It costs you noth- 
ing to please Mr. Newkirk. Let him be as cross 
as a bear, you come and go just as though every- 
thing was straight.” 

“So it is,” returned Gordon now fully com- 
prehending Caleb’s meaning. “You mistake, 
however as to it’s being easier for me than it is 
for you, I assure you that I have naturally a 
very impatient spirit.” 

“ Then how is it that you do it? ” came earn- 
estly. 

“I am my mother’s only dependence,” was 
said humbly. “ I know she would feel badly to 
have me fail. Besides, the Bible teaches us to 


Old Friends and New . 


67 


be faithful. Before I left home, mother made 
me repeat the verse, 4 He that is faithful in that 
which is least is faithful also in much) and he 
that is unjust in the least is unjust also in 
much.’ ” 

44 1 don’t think so,” returned Caleb quickty, 
44 1 confess it is not just the correct thing to 
get off as I did that Saturday. I would do that, 
mind, when I wouldn’t take a penny from the 
till, or fill my pockets out of the raisin box.” 

m 

44 Unless there is a principle of right in the 
heart, doing right for the sake of right,” contin- 
ued Gordon, 44 one cannot be sure what he will 
do, if tempted. I have been taught to think 
that the only sure way is to be faithful in the 
least.” 

Caleb was looking away to the river, and 
the old mill that seemed good for nothing but 
to gather moss and sunshine. Then turning 
to Gordon with a quizzical expression on his 
face, he said: 44 What a pity that everything 
nice is so wicked.” 


68 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ In other words you think it is nice to be 
wicked ? ” Gordon asked. 

“Not exactly that. But, I want to do so 
many things that Mr. Falcon considers wrong ; 
and just for this, perhaps, something compels 
me to do them just to show him that I can.” 

“ To follow the directions of conscience is pos- 
sible for us, Caleb, though it may require a 
severe struggle. It all depends upon the influ- 
ences we cherish. Does it satisfy you when you 

* 

look back upon an act performed with no other 
motive than to show Mr. Falcon that you are 
capable of doing something he cannot possibly 
approve ?” 

“ Can’t say it does then. But there it is ; 
there is no help for it,” returned Caleb' quite as 
though there were no free agency in the case. 

Gordon looked up brightly. “ The Bible tells 
us that evil doing may be sweet to the taste. 
But the dregs are bitterness and death.” 

There was no reply. Caleb was evidently 


Old Friends and New. 


69 


questioning. At length he said with the frank- 
ness that rendered him acceptable to Gordon. 

“ You have been brought up to believe this. 
I never was. Neither can I understand what it 
all amounts to, this meeting together to sing 
hymns and repeat things to somebody one can- 
not see at all, and of course cannot ever know 
whether He is here or there.” His face darkened 
with a scowl. 

“ We do not repeat prayers. Caleb, prayer is 
the desire of the heart for something God alone 
can give. And as to seeing God, we see him in 
his works. The beauty around us reveals his 
presence.” 

“ I do not see Him.” 

“ You do not see the architect who planned 
yonder house ; neither do you see the carpenter 
and the mason who aided in the building ; but 
you do not doubt their presence at the time, for 
you see their work.” 

“ Of course,” was returned impatiently. 


TO That Boy of Newkirk's. 

“So it is with the Great Architect of the 
universe ; the Creator of all things, the God 
whom we worship,” Gordon continued. “As 
well doubt that the house had a builder, as to 
doubt that God made, controls and holds us in 
keeping.” 

The sun was setting in gorgeous drapery of 
clouds, pink and scarlet and opal blending in 
one soft tissue of incomparable splendor.” 

Perplexed and unsatisfied Caleb began : 

“All this seems plausible and I try to think 
that it is so. But praying to one invisible is al- 
together a different thing. How are we to know 
that our prayers are heard ? ” 

“ Because we have the answer.” 

“ There it is again ! ” was the impatient ex- 
clamation. “Try as I will I cannot get beyond 
it. How do you know ? ” 

The last words had a painful ring in them 
that touched Gordon and made him' silent. At 
length he said, as his eyes followed the changing 
light : 


Old Friends and New, 


71 


“How do we know the effect of sunshine and 
of rain upon the springing corn ? How do we 
know the action of cold and frost and blight. 
The influence of sunlight and of rain is seen in 
the growth of plants. The blood-red leaf speaks 
to us of chill, and frost and decay.” 

“ But is there not such a thing as asking, and 
asking, and never receiving,” Caleb asked. 

“ The Bible says, if we ask we shall receive, 
not necessarily at the first asking. When the 
prophet Elijah asked for rain, he sent his servant 
seven times to see if he could see the cloud,” 
was the answer. 

“Do you believe the Bible, Gordon? Have 
you always believed it? ” 

“ It is one thing to believe because we have been 
taught to believe ; it is another and quite a dif- 
ferent thing to feel a strong belief from our own 
experience. I do not think I have always 
known this, Caleb.” 

Caleb’s face relaxed; there was less severity 


72 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 

in his tone. “Since you first spoke to me of 
prayer you cannot know how hard I have tried 
to feel, that, if I asked God for his help he 
would give it to me. Bad as I am, and always 
in hot water. I have asked him.” 

“ And he heard you, and it was easier for you 
to do right, was it not ? ” 

“Perhaps it was easier for the time,” was 
freely admitted. 

“That is what I should term an answer,” 
smiled Gordon. 

“ But, if God could help me and did help me. 
Why did he not keep on helping me ? ” 

“ Did you continue to ask him ? ” 

“Not always,” came quickly. 

“ We have no promise that God will send an- 
swers to our request, unless our desire is earnest. 
It is for us to ask, and for him to give ; and he 
will give for he has said that he will.” 

As they walked on they passed a farm-house, 
and an orchard with an abundance of luscious 


They passed a farm-house.” — Page 72. 


























Old Friends and New. 


73 


fruit. Gordon caught sight of a familiar face 
and was over the fence in an instant. 

“You never had a better yield Uncle Richard/’ 
he said letting his gaze sweep over the golden 
fruit. 

“Pretty fair, considering. Are you going 
home? Well, take some along.” 

“ I will take one to eat on the way and my 
friend will take one,” turning to Caleb. 

“ Fill your pockets ; these early pippins can’t 

* 

be beaten,” was said generously. 

“ I little thought fruit gathering was as nice a 
process,” Caleb said, as men came with baskets 
carefully set in a wooden frame, with projecting 
handles by which they were readily borne away 
when filled. 

Uncle Richard explained the necessity of pick- 
ing each apple by itself, in order to save it from 
bruise and blemish. 

“ You see it’s a sight of work to do anything,” 
straightening himself and looking Caleb full in 


74 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


the face. “ God never put us here to do things 
by halves, young man.” 

Gordon’s hand was already on the fence rail. 
Looking back he said, “ Shall we see you to- 
morrow, Uncle Richard ? ” 

“ Some of us will be there. It is not always 
easy for me, now. I am not as active as I once 
was. There is no denying, however, I don’t get 
along as w$ll in the week when I don’t go out 
Sunday.” 

“ They think more of these things at Edge- 
field than they do at Fern-Hill do they not ? ” 
Caleb asked, as they struck into the road. 

“ More of going to church ? Yes, I think 
they do,” was the answer. 

Caleb caught a leaf in his hand and was toss- 
ing it up to see it fly. 

“ It is amusing to see folks dress up in their 
best just to sit stone still and listen to what a 
preacher says.” 

“ Still, Uncle Richard said that he did not get 


Old Friends and New . 


75 


along as well in the week when he failed to go 
to church Sunday. Can you account for this ? ” 
Gordon asked. 

“ He imagines he is a better man for going. 
And that God honors him accordingly, and will 
in some significant way bless him during the 
week.” 

“ To go to church is to obey a command of 
God. And obedience is a test of faith,” was 
Gordon’s answer. 

“Simple enough, anybody can do that, ’’laughed 
Caleb. 

“ Do you find it easy to obey Mr. Fal- 
con ? ” 

“Hot always.” 

“ Still, Mr. Falcon has a right to your time. 
It is for him to decide what you are to do.” 

“ I suppose it is.” 

“ God has a claim upon every human soul, 
and he says, ‘ Follow me.’ ‘Give me thy heart.’ 
‘ Learn of me.’ Our love must go out to him in 


76 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

» 

measure beyond what we give to others ; our 
will must be absorbed in his will. Is it easy ? 
If easy, why not do it ? ” 

Gordon blushed at the thought of all he had 
said. Not that he was insincere, or failed to be- 
lieve all that he would have Caleb believe. His 
modesty was equal to his zeal. It was not by 
speech that he hoped to influence Caleb. His 
mother could do this. It was for this purpose 
the visit was proposed. For himself it would 
be action rather than words. Clerks in the 
same village it would be by the force of exam- 
ple, if good was effected through him. 

They were now in sight of a church steeple. 
Gordon quickened his steps. Susie and May 
were seated on a gray rock by the roadside. 

“ We started before sun-down,” May cried as 
she sprung into Gordon’s arms. “We thought, 
perhaps, you would not see us ; and if you did 
not, we would spring out on you like robbers.” 

Susie being the oldest felt that she must be 
dignified in the presence of a stranger. Caleb 


Old Friends and New. 


77 


was sure he had never seen a sweeter face, and 
the remainder of the walk to the village of 
Edgefield, was enlivened with incident, so charm- 
ingly told, that when they reached the house, he 
felt that memory would never have anything 
more pleasant to cherish. 




CHAPTER VII. 


UNVEILED. 

f HE pretty parlor, and the simple, quiet 
ways of the household at Edgefield 
pleased Caleb. Instead of the noise and bustle 
he was accustomed to in his step-mother’s house, 
all was order and neatness, without seeming 
effort. With such influences it did not seem 
strange that Gordon was in possession of a spirit 
of order and systematic action. He had never 
known anything else. But for him how dif- 
ferent ! 

78 


Unveiled . 


79 


If Caleb did not believe in prayer, he at least 
felt compelled to admit, that there was some- 
thing in it he could not comprehend. Evidently 
it was not a formula to be said at stated inter- 
vals, but a free and truthful asking from a living 
Presence. What before seemed imaginary and 
unsatisfying began to assume the look of reality. 
The subdued gladness of the household seemed 
to communicate itself to the outside world; 
birds sung as if there hearts overflowed with 
grateful song, and flowers swung their perfumed 
censers before invisible alters. To Caleb it was 
the unveiling of a new life. A strange awe 
crept over him. Leaving the breakfast room he 
made his way to the garden, everything spoke 
of a plan. Gordon was methodical, he had 
learned to be so while a child, and once more 
thoughts of his own mother, who left him a tiny, 
unconscious thing in his cradle, came back with 
overmastering force. What had been his moth- 
er’s thoughts of the Sabbath? Was she a 
woman who delighted in prayer ? Did she pray 


80 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


over Ins cradle ? If she did, had God forgotten ? 
And, if she did not, was there hope for him let 
him try as he would? 

A rustic arbor built under the shelter of a 
venerable looking oak, tempted him to the en- 
joyment of resting his head against the great 
brown trunk and letting his eyes take in the 
surrounding beauty. Soon the bells begin to 
ring. Susie comes out upon the steps looking 
pure and lovely in her white dress and blue rib- 
bons. She calls his name pleasantly ; much as 
he would prefer to- remain at home he knows 
she will be disappointed, and rising he meets her 
on the walk. Mrs. Ferril is standing in the 
door with May and Gordon just outside. Caleb 
feels that he is drawn by some invisible power ; 
every one is smiling. He tries to talk, but 
words will not come. Susie does not seem to 
notice it. Lovely as the morning is, she is in 
anticipation of something still more enjoyable. 

The solemn stillness of the house of God 
pleases Caleb, the lofty roof, the stained windows 


Unveiled . 


81 


and the massive organ win his eyes to look and 
admire. He is impressed by the hush and the 
prayer and the blessing of rest that follows. 

May sits very quiet between her mother and 
Gordon, with her glad blue eyes fixed intently 
upon the speaker. The subject is character and 
the necessity laid upon a young man or woman 
to build upon a sure foundation. 

“Our Saviour presented the idea of character 
in the metaphor of building a palace, a magnifi- 
cent building which requires more than ordinary 
outlay. It is not to be a temporary shelter: 
but a permanent abode for himself and for his 
descendents, a costly edifice, with well laid foun- 
dation, strong walls and proper appointments. 
An enterprise of this nature is not to be entered 
upon thoughtlessly. The plan must be accur- 
ately made, the cost considered and the purpose 
calmly and decisively taken. The thought of 
the Saviour is obvious. Character must be a 
building of a permanent nature, with a well ma- 
tured plan, and with energy to push the work to 


82 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


its completion. It is a momentous responsibility 
to hold in one's power the possibilities involved 
in a moral and spiritual nature of endless dura- 
tion. It is a solemn trust to have the charge of 
the erection of any building which is designed 
to be occupied for centuries to come. The old 
world castles and churches which have stood for 
hundreds of years and will stand for hundreds 
to come, were not thoughtlessly planned, nor 
carelessly built. It is thus with individual char- 
acter. It is to stand for ages upon ages. Eter- 
nity! Who can fathom it? A man’s character 
is his castle built by himself, in which are to be 
treasured all his valuables. Whatever man may 
call his own is worthless, unless converted into 
moral and spiritual treasures to be garnered into 
the castle of his character. All man’s nominal 
wealth in material things without honor, fidelity, 
righteousness, godliness and charity will be as 
worthless as the notes of a broken bank. Char- 
acter is the gold basis on which bills of credit 
can be issued among men. A man with a true, 


Unveiled . 


83 


genuine character, according to the Divine idea 
of character, is rich anywhere, although for the 
time being, he may, like his Saviour, have no 
place to lay his head. 

“ So my young friends let me say, if there is 
anything which should call for your most pro- 
found investigation and thought, it is the deter- 
mining how you will build your character for 
the ages of eternity. In business the successful 
man finds that he must bend all his energies to 
his work, if he succeeds. And so with the 
builder of a character. It costs something to 
win success. It costs sacrifices, and self-denials 
and hardships. In a world like ours it will cost 
something to build up a Christian character. 
Still, cost what it may, it will be vastly more ex- 
pensive not to have such a character. It may 
cost much to dig deep, and lay the foundation 
on the rock of truth and godliness, building the 
entire castle after the plan and pattern God has 
furnished; but what a costly folly is a house 


84 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


built upon the sand, liable at any moment to be 
swept away by the rising flood. 

44 There is not a soul but must build his or her 
character for Eternity. There is no discharge. 
My young friends what character are you build- 
ing ? Is it founded on the precepts of Christ ; 
or is it built upon the shifting sands of human 
wisdom ? 4 The fool hath said in his heart, There 
is no God.’ Build you must, but build wisely ; 
and lest the enemy should count you upon his 
side, let all men see that God is your King. God 
and the world hath demanded this. It is but 
just. 4 Let your light so shine.’ Then shall it 
be seen how grand and noble, how potent and 
effective, how blessed and how glorious is 
character begun in penitence, faith and conse- 
cration, built up in love to God and man, and 
throwing out to the world the sacred banner of 
Christ and his cross.” 

Going home Caleb remarked to Mrs. Ferril : 

44 It was a novel idea, building up character 
like a wall with one brick at a time.” 


Unveiled . 


85 


“ It looks plain doesn’t it? ” she asked. 

“ He made his meaning clear ; but I had not 
thought of it before,” with nothing of the old 
levity in his voice. “We build our characters 
by our actions day by day, and our motives and 
habits are like the stones of the building ; but 
how to lay them right is not so easy for me to 
understand,” was the reply. 

“ Every architect, has a plan, or pattern, and 
so has the wise character builder. Every block 
must be squared according to the design, some 
for foundation and some for polish ; each thought 
and word and deed of the character-builder must 
closely follow the model. 

“ Do you say that we each have a model ? ” 
Caleb asked, not quite sure that he perfectly un- 
derstood. 

“ Christ is our model,” was the reply. 

Susie walked demurely by her mother. She 
was confident that Caleb was pleased with Mr. 
Noble but she did not hear him say so. At length 
she ventured : 


86 


That Boy of NewJcirJcs. 


“Did you like Mr. Noble this morning ?” 

“ Certainly I liked him. I hope that I shall 
make a better man for his sermon.” 

« He said we are all building one way or an- 
other. What a terrible thing it will be for one 
who has all his life been building wrong.” 

Caleb bit his lips to keep from asking whose 
fault it would be provided he built as best he 
knew ? 

The evening was spent in reading books and 
singing hymns. Then they walked in the gar- 
den. Mrs. Ferfil was talking in her pleasant 
way of obedience as the test of love. 

“ Jesus Christ is received by faith as our Sa- 
viour aud thenceforth he becomes all in all to us. 
He keeps us in our conflicts with selfishness and 
all kinds of temptation, and we grow more and 
more like him.” 

Susie asked her mother what a Christian’s work 
was. Possibly she longed to do some great 
thing, that would commend her to favor, and 
make her acceptable in the sight of God. 


Unveiled. 


87 


“ What God would have us do, I think, is the 
work that lies nearest to us. Do little, helpful 
things, and speak helpful words whenever you 
can,” was the answer. 

16 But all we can do is but little in comparison 
to what many others do,” Susie said in the gen- 
tle quiet way habitual to her. 

“ One little act of loving obedience in God’s 
sight outweighs the greatest effort that has self 
in it,” returned Mrs. Ferril. 

Once again in his i;oom, Caleb said to Gordon : 

“It seems easy here to do right ; but when I 
get home, how will it be ? ” 

“ You remember Mr. Noble said we must count 
the cost. It will be uphill work for both of us. 
But in the end we gain all and lose nothing,” 
Gordon answered. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



THE QUESTION. 

{j|R. NEWKIRK’S house was presided over 
by a widowed sister. Mrs. March, a 
woman who in voice, look and manner reminded 
Gordon of his mother. With one child, Alice, 
she found leisure to read books and to converse 
upon what she read with her small household. 
Gordon informed his mother of these quiet talks 
and the pleasure they gave him, not alone in re- 
minding him of her ; but the quiet, ladylike 

manner of Mrs. March smoothed down the ir- 
88 


The Question. 


89 


ritation of the day and made it possible for him 
to hear patiently with whim or caprice on the 
part of Mr. Newkirk. 

The evening of the day on which he returned 
from Edgefield with Caleb Benton, Mrs. March 
received him with a grave, dignified manner that 
quite surprised him. Alice was cordial ; but her 
mother had no word of comfort or encourage- 
ment. After a few common-place remarks, Gor- 
don was on the point of saying “ Good-night,” 
when Mrs. March called him back. Asking him 
to take a chair near her, she said : 

“ Is Caleb Benton your friend, Gordon ? ” 

“ In one sense he is my friend.” 

“ But is he a safe companion ? ” 

“ I cannot feel that I shall be blackened by 
associating with him,” he said, respectfully. 

“ Was your mother pleased to have you bring 
him home and introduce him to your sisters ? ” 

“ I wrote her the motive I had in bringing him 
home and she gladly assented.” 


90 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ If you have no objection will you tell me 
your motive ? ” 

A blush suffused Gordon’s cheeks. If he 
should frankly confess to Mrs. March his motive 
in taking Caleb with him, would she not accuse 
him of thinking over-much of himself and of his 
influence ? Nevertheless he spoke firmly. 

“ With all his faults there is a great deal of 
good in Caleb Benton, I have endeavored to talk 
with him at times; but I felt how poor and weak 
my words were to show him the right way. 
Could he but listen to mjr mother and to our 
minister, Mr. Noble, I was sure he could be per- 
suaded to do well.” 

“Did you think one visit would have a radi- 
cal effect upon him ? ” 

“ I thought one visit would lead him to think ; 
and to think, for a boy as keenly alive as Caleb 
Benton, is pretty sure to lead to right action.” 

Mrs. March turned the leaves of her book with 
a trifle more energy. 

“ Has Caleb ever spoken to you of his home ? ” 


The Question . 


91 


“ lie was ill one day, and at night I went to 
see him. It was pity for him that first led me to 
invite him to my home. I did not see what en- 
couragement he had to do well.” 

“ Then you think if one does right he must 
have some encouragement to do right? ” 

“ Caleb has received very little instruction. 
Do not the best people owe much to early 
training ? ” 

“ I presume they do ; no doubt Caleb would 
do better, if home influences were of a different 
kind.” 

“ I am glad to hear you say this,” returned 
Gordon. 

“Why glad?” 

“ When you think of the different boy he 
might be, your heart, perhaps, will prompt you 
to devise some means to help mothers at home.” 

“But what can I do?” came with a tremor 
of voice that showed how deeply she was 
moved. 

“ That is the question we all need to ask. The 


92 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


answer will come, mother says, and the work 
ready for our hands, if we are looking.” 

“ You have a good mother, Gordon.” 

“ I shudder when I think what would have be- 
come of me without just such a mother to teach 
and help me. Caleb’s mother died when he was 
too young to realize his loss.” 

Mrs. March was a Christian woman ; for years 
her name had been on the church record. She 
gave liberally and was hospitable. A woman to 
do good according to her convictions of truth 
and duty ; but she was fastidious with, regard to 
her associations, the whiteness of her own good 
deeds must not be soiled by contact with the 
poor and miserable. Alice was told to go to 
school without stopping for Helen Glasse. Helen 
Glasse was not a bad girl ; but her father spent 
his earnings at “ The Eagle,” and her mother 
had lost heart. Of course Helen could not be 
considered a fitting companion for Alice March. 

For the first time Mrs. March was led to ques- 
tion. A look of perplexity crept over her face ; 


The Question . 


93 


she was sure that she was willing to do ail that 
could possibly be required of her. There were 
others beside Mrs. Bentou who needed help : but 
they were socially ciphers. Could it be expected 
that she would go down to their level ? With 
less of the cool steady bearing that characterized 
her, she said : 

“ I might speak with Mr. Krebbs about it, I 
am told he is a very able man and his wife goes 
everywhere.” 

Gordon did not press the matter. If Mrs. 
March was inclined to arrange some plan, he had 
said enough ; and, if not so inclined it was not 
for him to set himself up as authority in these 
matters. He went to his room, but not to sleep. 
Mrs. March had stopped just short of saying the 
very thing he hoped she would say ; neither did 
he feel satisfied with himself. Mrs. Krebbs was 
a comparative stranger in Fern-Hill, with no 
prestige. Mrs. March was an acknowledged so- 
cial leader. What she admired did not lack for 
appreciation. Her sayings were quoted, and not 


94 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


a woman in the village but felt it an honor to 
have her call. 

Upbraiding himself for his timidity, Gordon 
resolved, the very next day, to ask Mrs. March 
if she would not call socially upon Mrs. Glasse 
and Mrs. Benton ? Attention to his step-mother 
would no doubt add to Caleb’s appreciation of 
her, and it is possible, she would be stimulated to 
make greater effort in the order and neatness of 
her own dwelling. 

The moon’s silvery brightness irradiated the 
earth as Gordon opened his window and looked 
out. In that instant his thoughts flew to the 
distant village, and his mother’s house. Doubt- 
less she was asleep with the moonbeams creeping 
over the casement, and everywhere weaving a 
network of silver bars. 

Over the river a whippoorwill began to sing. 
Once he considered the notes of this bird omi- 
nous of sorrow and calamity, and a thread of the 
old superstition clings to him still. The song is 
sweetly tender. Listening, the question he had 


The Question. 


95 


resolved to ask Mrs. March comes back to him, 
and with it another. 44 Is there not something 
more for me to do ? ” He is conscious of a hold 
upon Caleb, but this is not enough. The germ 
of right living must start from within, not from 
without. The grasp of another hand is power- 
less to save ; the principle of a higher, nobler life 
must be implanted Jm the heart. Like a ship in 
the tempest securely anchored, so must the soul 
of the repentant sinner be anchored by faith to 
an infinite Redeemer. 

With thoughts like these, Gordon failed to see 
a dark, shadowy figure creeping under the trees 
in the garden. He did not dream that the lonely 
heart of the capricious youth longed for strength 
beyond his own, to enable him to withstand 
temptation. Fleeing from 44 The Eagle” as the 
place above all others which he had least power 
to resist, and finding no rest in his father’s 
house, Caleb Benton wandered on, led by the 
light in Gordon’s room. At first his thought 
was to go in and lay his heart bare before his 


96 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


friend. But the hour was late. If Mr. Newkirk 
should know of it, he would doubtless forbid him 
to come again ; the risk was too great. Only as 
' Gordon leaned over the casement did he feel like 
crying out to him to protect him from himself. 
Then with the memory of Mrs. Ferril and all 
she said on that ever-to-be-remembered Sabbath 
evening, he dropped upon his knees in the grass 
and prayed for strength and for deliverance. 






CHAPTER IX. 


OUT OF THE BUTS. 



NE bright, crisp November morning Mrs. 


March woke up with the full conscious- 
ness of wasted powers ; of opportunities dropped 
out of her life here ; but sure to rise up in judg- 
ment against her. Not that she had as yet a 
particular plan to work out ; she was simply 
startled out of the ruts in which her whole phy- 
sical and mental force had been for years run- 
ning. The habit of neglect slipped from her like 
a cast off garment ; her eyes were open to discern 

the need. All around her were poor, starving 

97 


98 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


souls, dying for want of tlie bread of Life which, 
she professed to have tasted ; thirsty souls, un- 
willing to drink, or perchance unknowing that 
c a satisfying spring was so near. 

The first step in the ladder of reform is wil- 
lingness to work; the master of the vineyard 
will designate the place, and in many instances, 
the most efficient Christian effort is done over 
against one’s own house. Mrs. March formed 
her purpose and entered at once in her new 
field of work. Mrs. Benton was surprised and 
Mrs. Glasse was so bewildered she could hardly 
ask her visitor to be seated. Mr. Glasse had 
been severely ill for several days. 

“ It was bad enough before and now its much 
worse ! ” said Mrs. Glasse, fluttering about the 
room. “ Not that its possible for rich folks to 
know how it takes the heart out of us, to 
be spending all the time and have nothing com- 
ing in.” . 

The poor woman stopped suddenly and looked 
at her visitor. “ Would you mind seeing him ? 


Out of the Ruts. 


99 


He’s that broke down, he’ll listen to anything 
from you.” 

Mrs. March did not feel that she quite under- 
stood what was coming; but Mr^Glasse was ill, 
and she had come out with an honest purpose to 
be helpful. 

The sick man was sitting propped up in a 
large, old-fashioned arm-chair, with a ragged 
dressing-gown drawn loosely over his shoulders. 
He looked up as his wife entered the room with 
Mrs. March ; then dropped his eyes. Far down 
as he had drifted, this woman did not think it 
beneath her to come and see him. The room 
was bright with her presence ; the soft utteran- 
ces of her voice sinking into his heart and lifting 
him out of the slough and despond into which 
his own acts had brought him. As a boy, Mr. 
Glasse had read the Scriptures ; but during his 
married life he had rarely opened his Bible. As 
Mrs. March repeated verse after verse, old 
thoughts revived, and new desires were awak- 
ened, new purposes flashed across his brain, his 


100 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


breath came quick: “Whosoever — did you say? ” 
catching at a word. 

“ Whosoever ! yes.” Mrs. March answered, 
“That little word is as broad as humanity. It 
m£ans you, it means me, it means the lowest and 
the weakest. ‘ Whosoever will let him take the 
water of life freely.’ ” 

“ I need it, if anybody does,” came brokenly. 

“ Then, will you not accept it ? ” 

“ I don’t think I’m one of ’em he means. You 
see I’ve been pretty bad. I’ve no right to expect 
anything. I’ll think of it, though. My mother 
was a praying woman.” 

“ If your mother was a praying woman, I see 
no reason why her son should not be a praying 
man. The children of covenant-keeping mothers 
are under peculiar watch and care.” Mrs. March 
said this in order to bring the man to talk of 
himself and of his early life. After .a few mo- 
ments of silence he said : 

“ The truth is, I have not acted up to my 
knowledge, and God has left me to my own evil 


Out of the Ruts. 


101 


inclinations. I deserve it all. I bad a good 
mother. She told me how it would end. I did 
not listen to her warning. I must needs try it 
myself.” 

“The invitation is to those who feel their 
need. Why raise an obstacle to bar the door 
that God’s free grace has set wide open ? 4 Come 
for all things are now read}?- ’ is the message.” 

Mrs. March was a Bible reader. She had 
studied the promises. They were not to be kept 
like a box of precious jewels under lock and 
ke} 7 , to be admired in the secret of her chamber, 
but she was ready to open the box publicly and 
hand out a diamond, pearl or ruby. She knew 
how costly and precious they were. 

Helen Glasse was smiling and grateful. Alice 
March was her ideal of girl loveliness, and to 
claim Alice for a companion had been the one 
dream of her meagre life. When Mrs. March 
took her leave, Helen ran up to her room under 
the rafters and wept until Benny found her out. 
Taking the child in her arms she rocked and 


102 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


sung to him, feeling in her heart that it could 
never be again quite as it had been. The mem- 
ory of Mrs. March’s visit would be like the sight 
of a cherished* face on the wall, a source of con- 
tinual delight. 

O 

In the family room several of the neighboring 
women were soon after collected. The visitor 
had been in every house, and everywhere she 
had won her way by the sweetness of her voice 
and the gentleness of her manner. 

“ I was not a bit surprised,” said Mrs. Major, 
a tall, slight woman with a pinched look in her 
face. “ She’s throwing off mourning ; society peo- 
ple never go out dressed in crape enough to 
make folks cry to look at ’em.” 

“ It’s all owing to that boy at Newkirk’s,” said 
another. “ They say his mother is one of the 
salt of the earth and lie’s like her ; boys mostly 
are.” 

“ I’d like to know what that boy has to do 
with it ; ’tis true he boards at Newkirk’s, but 


Out of the Huts. 103 

mighty little he sees of Mrs. March,” added Mrs. 
Harm. 

“ Little or not, what she’s done will please him, 
my Frank has told me about him,” said Mrs. 
Nesby with a wise shake of her head. 

“ Some boys are old for their years. The first 
time I ever saw that boy at Newkirk’s, I said to 
myself, ‘ He's got an old head on his shoulders,’ ” 
another said, with the air of one who felt that 
her judgment in this instance was correct. 

Meantime, Mrs. March finished her visiting 
for the day by calling upon Mrs. Krebbs. 

“ Really, this is commendable,” said Mr. Krebbs 
coming into the parlor with a flourish. “ As I 
say to Mrs. Krebbs, when a woman makes up 
her mind to this kind of work, it is bound to go. 
Now really, what is your plan, and I am with 
you heartily.” 

Mrs. March had to confess ; which she did in 
the simplest possible manner, that she had no 
plan. Just to call upon families and make her- 
self acquainted with individual wants and needs. 


104 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

Possibly something more would grow out of it.” 

44 I have been long anxious for something to 
be done, especially for the young men. If we 
could gather them together somewhere and make 
the place attractive with warmth and comfort 
and color.” 

It was a suggestion thrown out with womanly 
tact, Mrs. Krebbs was conscious that her own 
house was wanting in beauty ; while Mr. New- 
kirk’s was the handsomest in the village. 

44 A Reading Club, perhaps. Do you think 
they would come?” asked the visitor. 

44 I have found that there is nothing like per- 
sonal effort,” returned Mrs. Krebbs, “ it is the 
lever that overcomes preconceived opinions and 
opens new channels for thought and action. We 
must ask them.” 

Mr. Krebbs was sure there would be no obsta- 
cle ; but he did not propose anything definite. 
Mrs. Krebbs continued : 

44 1 have heard Eddie Stephens say it was be- 
cause 44 The Eagle” was bright and pleasant that 


Out of the Ruts. 


105 


he was led there to spend his evenings. Boys 
must have diversion, and if they do not find it at 
home, they will go elsewhere.” 

Mrs. March was evidently moved. She had 
been into these homes, and knew how cheerless 
they were. But just then she felt powerless. 
With so much to be done, she did not see the 
way clear. Ordinarily she would not have 
thought of going to Mrs. Krebbs for advice. 
Now she is not positive that she is one to take 
the initiatory step. She shrinks from the respon- 
sibility. Besides, what will Mr. Newkirk say 
provided she opens his parlor for a reading- 
room ? 

Mrs. Krebbs stood in the door long after the 
tall, willowy figure of her visitor was lost in the 
distance. For months she has longed to see this 
woman enlisted in the work of building up and 
making better the people in her neighborhood. 
A sense of unwortliiness steals over her : the 
quiet beauty of the world without is but a silent 
rebuke for all her doubt and hesitation, and want 


106 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


of confidence. Influences unseen and unknown 
have been at work ; henceforth she will be more 
zealous to do, leaving the issue with One who 
sees from the beginning to the end. The work 
is his, so is the plan, the place in which to work 
is appointed her. All she has to do is under the 
direction of One who never makes a mistake. 

The beauty of the evening inclined Mrs. March 
to walk slowly. Passing the grocery the thought 
occurred to her to go in and wait for her brother. 
Possibly she would find it easy to speak to him 
in their walk home. He was not to be seen' at 
his desk. Sitting down she resolved various 
plans by which the work could be accomplished. 
Presently the sound of voices came to her ear. 
It was Gordon Ferril in earnest conversation. 

“ Indeed, Caleb, you must not go. It is your 
home. Think ! your father has a claim upon 
you. Your little sisters look to you for protec- 
tion. Consider what loss it will be to them, and 
do not leave them.” 

“ I did not always feel this way,” came in a 


Out of the Ruts . 


10T 


perplexed, helpless way, “I did not know what 
it was to live differently. I cannot bear to go 
home. The sights and sounds I am sure to see 
there put to flight all my resolves to do well. ,, 

“It is the old difficulty, Caleb; will going 
away improve it ? ” 

“I see ; you think it will be only jumping out 
of the frying pan into the fire,” returned Caleb, 
with a forced smile. 

It was some time before Gordon answered, 
then he said in a tone of deferential tenderness: 

“ Mother said .to me, success would be not so 
much by raising myself above something, as by 
raising myself to something. Now, that some- 
thing may be found here, Caleb, as well as else- 
where.” 

“ Possibly I can find it here, Gordon, but when 
I get stirred up, I forget all my good resolu- 
tions.” 

“ Did it ever occur to you that this is the very 
discipline you need?” 

Caleb turned almost fiercely. 


108 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ You cannot say tliat you consider it right to 
have me ground down in this way ? ” 

“Mr. Noble said it would be uphill work,” an- 
swered Gordon, without seeming to notice Ca- 
leb’s mood. 

“ If necessary for me, why is it not for you ? ” 

“ You cannot feel the lash that falls upon my 
shoulders,” was the answer. 

Caleb’s voice softened. At length he said in 
a low, subdued tone : “ Give me credit for one 
tiling, Gordon, 1 have tried and am still trying.” 

Mrs. March felt painfully out of place. She 
did not wish to be recognized, and slipping into 
the street she reached home in time to receive 
Gordon in the manner she usually did when his 
day’s work was over. 

The next evening the Reading Club was or- 
ganized, and Caleb Benton was there. 



CHAPTER X. 


CONTENDING FORCES. 

^ Mjr HE Reading Club was some compensation 
to Gr° r( ^ on Ferril for not going home. 
But Mr. Krebbs did not take the place of Mr. 
Noble. The two men zealously at work for the 
promotion of the same cause, had each his own 
method. Mr. Nobl^ saw only love and ten- 
derness in the Divine law, the tenderness of a 

father reaching out after his erring children, and 

109 


110 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


ready to forgive and take them to his heart, pro- 
vided they show the least inclination to come. 
Loving his own, he gave his only begotten Son 
to ransom and redeem them all. Not alone this ; 
but daily, hourly, he sends some message of love 
and assurance, thus drawing the earthly spirit to 
himself. 

Mr. Krebbs saw rather the majestic power of 
the Creator. He was awed, but not dumb. It 
was a righteously offended Judge that he set 
forth. His texts were often chosen from the 
terrors of the law. His God was angry with the 
wicked every day. 

On one occasion, with the thunder of Mount 
Sinai still ringing in their ears, Gordon Ferril 
and Caleb Benton walked down the aisle and out 
of the church silently. One thinking of his 
home in Edgefield, and how different the keeping 
of the Sabbath there ; the other tormented with 
the thought of justice, a broken law, God’s wrath 
poured without mercy upon the head of the of- 
fender. 


Contending Forces . 


Ill 


Rustling the brown leaves under his feet, Ca- 
leb burst forth: 

“ If what we have heard this morning, be true; 
if God has no sympathy for the erring ; if he is 
pure and holy and cannot look upon iniquity, 
what is the use of trying to live a worthy life? 
We are all sinners. Everywhere we are told 
that effort must be made on our part; and still 
our effort, let it be as pure and good as it may be, 
lacks saving grace. I confess I am puzzled.” 

There was an evident struggle in the heart of 
the young man. God was so far away from him. 
He acknowledged himself a sinner. But what 
could he do ? nothing, absolutely nothing. Still, 
he must act, necessity was laid upon him to work 
out his own salvation. He had been trying, it 
was useless, he would no longer try ; turn as he 
would, he found the sword of justice hanging 
continually over his head. 

“•Mr. Krebbs was unfortunate in his remarks,” 
said Gordon, simply. 


112 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ What he said was true, was it not ? ” Caleb 
returned. 

Throwing aside timidity, Gordon answered : 

“Yes. But it will not cure the sick man for 
the physician to talk learnedly of his disease. 
He knows he is a sick man, he feels it, every 
nerve in his body is throbbing with pain. Then 
it is the remedy he needs. He looks to the phy- 
sician as a healer, he has a right so to look. Mr. 
Krebbs offered the remedy too. The blood of 
Christ cleansetli from all sin.” 

“But God is angry with the wicked every 
day,” Caleb rejoined. 

In answer Gordon repeated : 

“ For God so loved the world that he gave his 
only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in 
him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” 

“ There are so many contradictory sayings in 
the Bible,” continued Gordon, with less indigna- 
tion in his tone. “ In one instance the Christian 
life is compared to a narrow way, with plenty of 


Contending Forces . 


113 


cross-bearing and self-denial, fear and trem- 
bling, at coming into the kingdom. In another 
passage is the assurance that salvation is of God, 
and of grace in and through the death of Christ. 
To me it is evident, if Christ’s death can save 
one soul, it is sufficient for all.” 

“ And all vve have to do is, with penitence and 
faith, to accept of the benefit ; to appropriate this 
sacrifice as made for us, laying hold of Christ by- 
faith unto salvation,” was the reply. 

Mrs. March stood at the gate. She had seen 
the almost hopeless expression of Caleb’s face as 
he left the church, and she was troubled. 

“ You must dine with us,” she pleasantly said, 
at the same time giving Caleb her hand. 

“ It is possible they will expect me at home,” 
with an attempt at a smile. 

“ Caleb is ill at ease to-day,” said Gordon, 
“ the terrors of the law unsettle him.” At the 
same time he threw his arm around his friend 
and drew him inside the gate. 


114 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ Do not allow the lightnings of Sinai to blind 
your eyes to Calvaiy,” Mrs. March said, as she 
led the way to the parlor. 

After dinner the question of the morning was 
touched upon. Mr. Newkirk was inclined to 
take part with Caleb. 

“ There is no use in fretting. If everything 
has been decreed, it cannot be changed. And if 
it has not been decreed we cannot do it. I see 
no way but we must take our chances.” 

“ You remember the wedding garment pro- 
vided by the master of the feast in the parable, 
and the condemnation that met the man who 
failed to put it on?” responded Mrs. March. 
“ According to God’s plan there is a robe of 
righteousness, pure and spotless, prepared for 
each of us. It is ready and waiting for our use, 
but we must put it on.” 

The pained expression of Caleb’s face was 
fading away. Mrs. March took courage. Since 
she resolved to use opportunities, opportunities 


Contending Forces. 


115 


presented themselves like well defined furrows, 
leaving lier nothing to do but drop the seed. 

“ The plan of salvation resolves itself into sim- 
p \y asking and receiving. There is no compul- 
sion. The invitation is as free, as it is tender: 
‘ Come for all things are ready ! Whosoever 
will,’ — not one is overlooked. The weary home- 
less ones may come and find rest. A child can 
accept. If we refuse, it will not be because the 
invitation was restricted. The call reaches us 
every day ‘ Come.’ Angels bring the blessing 
and sadly bear it back, if we refuse to stretch 
forth our hands to receive it.” 

Mr. Newkirk* was restless. Caleb sat quite 
still, listening respectfully, but unwilling to com- 
promise himself. He was not quite decided in 
his own mind as to his necessity for this robe 
which could be had in no other way than by 
humbly receiving it from the hand of the Giver. 

“ I comprehend thus far,” Caleb said, feeling 
that Mrs. March looked for some expression on 


116 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


liis part, “in leaving us free to choose, God 
treats us as intelligent beings. But, if all things 
come from him, then intelligence comes from 
him, and likewise the willingness to accept comes, 
from the same source.” 

The old puzzled look came back to his face. 
Gordon was troubled and Mrs. March hesitated, 
as if asking for the right word in order to lead 
this poor, struggling soul to the light. 

“ On every page of the New Testament we 
see the tenderness of God. As a father, he pities. 
It was the one great sorrow that burdened the 
heart of Jesus, that men would not come unto 
him that they might have life.’ What is more 
touching than the Saviour’s lament over Jerusa- 
lem. ‘ Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that kill- 
est the prophets, and stonest them which are sent 
unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy 
children together, even as a hen gathereth her 
chickens under her wings, and ye would not.’ 
His Spirit is pleading with you even now ; yield 
to his gracious influence, and all will be well.” 


Contending Forces . 


117 


Alice was sweetly singing a Sabbatli hymn, 
Gordon joined her. Mrs. March and Caleb 
walked along the graveled path and through the 
stile that separated the garden from the village 
street. When she returned, there were traces of 
tears on her cheeks. A struggle was going on 
between the good and evil forces in that young 
heart. A word, perhaps, would turn the balance ; 
was it any wonder that she wept? 




CHAPTER XL 


AT HIS BEST. 



RS. BENTON was at work on a pretty 
delaine that Caleb brought home to her 


the night previous. 

“ You shall not have it to say that you could 
not meet with other ladies for want of a new 
dress,” he said, as he slipped the package into 
her hand. “ Mrs. March was in the store, and I 
asked her which I should take. She said this 
was the prettiest.” 

“ Did she know you were getting it for me ? ” 
118 


At His Best . 


119 


Mrs. Benton asked, with a very appreciative 
smile. 

“ I said to her I was looking for something . 
nice for you.” 

“ And it is nice, nicer than I have had for a 
long time, and I thank you/’ she said, smoothing 
it down with her hand. 

Caleb had no idea it would please his mother 
to that extent. Since his visit to Edgefield he 
had thought more of home, but it was always to 
his mother’s disparagement. With a mercurial 
temperament, he failed to realize her need of en- 
couragement. Some women rarely endowed by 
nature, with good health and generous culture, 
can create a home out of odds and ends that 
would pass for nothing in other hanfls, making 
easy chairs of half barrels, and a pine sofa of two 
straight boards, and a few yards of flowered cot- 
ton. 

The effect of the pretty delaine showed itself, 
not alone in his mother’s smile, but the supper 
was nicer than usual, and the room looked more 


120 


That Boy of Newlcirlcs. 


tidy. After partaking of the evening meal, Mr. 
Benton sat down by the hearth, and one of the 
little girls crept into his lap and nestled her 
brown head to his shoulder. 

“ Have you concluded to stay with Falcon all 
winter ?” he said to Caleb. 

“ There is no especial bargain,” answered 
Caleb. 

“ Phillips said to me you were thinking of go- 
ing away to California, or some other place,” Mr. 
Benton continued. 

“ There was talk of it a few weeks ago. But 
it will take a good deal of money to get there, 
and nothing certain after I arrive.” 

“ That is about the way of it,” returned Mr. 
Benton, {ft the same time pinching Topknots ear 
to keep her from falling asleep, “about the 
way of it. Ilungerford used to be at me to go. 
We could make oceans of money in no time, he 
said. But I couldn’t see it, the expenses eat up 
everything. By the way, Phillips said if Falcon 
did shut down on you, he would give you good 


At His Best . 


121 


wages to tend bar for him. He expects to do a 
big business this winter.” 

Phillips kept “ The Eagle ” and sold liquor by 
the glass or by the barrel. 

“I don’t think T should like to tend bar,” 
Caleb answered. 

“Why not? it’s good business. Phillips be- 
gun in that way. He’s rich now.” 

Before Caleb could answer, Mrs. Benton came 
from the kitchen, evidently she had heard the 
entire conversation. 

“ Good business ! ” she echoed, “ getting men 
and boys in there and tempting them to drink 
and play ; and then following them up just as 
long as they have a cent. When their money is 
gone, then see ! ” 

“ Don’t be hard on them. It is a nice place. 
Phillips has spent a sight of money to put it in 
order, and of course he expects the villagers to 
patronize him.” 

“ It is my opinion he won’t do such very great 
things. I hope he won’t,” she said. 


122 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


An extra lamp was brought, and Mrs. Benton 
began to stitch vigorously on her new dress. 

“ What with the societies and going to church 
evenings, there’s not so much going to 4 The Ea- 
gle ’ as there once was,” drawing in her thread 
with a sharp, quick movement. 

“ As for me I am too tired to go to church at 
night, it’s well enough for women who have 
nothing to do,” Mr. Benton said. 

“ Women who have nothing to do are not 
found in these parts,” she answered. 44 I would 
like to know who gets up the earliest, you or I ? 
And who works the latest ? A nice time you 
have at 4 The Eagle,’ and I slaving at home. I 
don’t think much of it.” 

There was an angry flush on the woman’s 
cheeks. In her excitement she dropped her 
needle and could not go on. Caleb found it and 
gave it to her with a little deferential kindness. 

44 Top, you had better wake up and go to 
bed ; father’s going out for a little,” Mr. Benton 
said, at the same time shaking the child quietly. 


At His Best. 


123 


Bat half awake, Tops stumbled over to Caleb’s 
chair and sunk down in a heap on the carpetless 
floor. One arm crept around her, then the other, 
and the next instant Caleb was going up the 
narrow stairs with Top’s head on his shoulder. 
The pretty delaine had opened Caleb’s eyes, he 
resolved to act upon Gordon’s plan. It could 
do no harm. 

Sleepy little Top awoke sufficiently to ask for 
“The Prince in Disguise,” or, “Jack and the 
Bean Stalk.” Caleb is in story-telling mood. 
When he closed she said, “ I wish we lived in 
such a nice house with carpets and curtains ; 
don’t 3^011 wish so, Caleb ? Is it any harm to 
dream about it? ” rubbing her eyes to keep them 
open. 

“ It’s not very nice to wake up and not find it 
so.” Caleb laughed, and the next moment Top 
was asleep and dreaming that she had everything 
nice. ‘ 

The light of the stars came through the small 
panes and fell upon the fair child face ; the pretty, 


& 


124 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


peachy cheek makes him think of Susie Ferrii. 
That visit to Gordon’s home was an event in Ca- 
leb’s career, the sweet home life was so different 
from what he had known. After all was it not 
in a measure his own fault ? Madge and Top 
gave him abundance of love since he showed 
brotherly kindness to them, and he was reminded 
that Gordon Ferrii was always kind to his sisters, 
and that they gave him love for love. 

Going down to the small parlor he found Mrs. 
Benton was not there. Dropping into a low 
chair he rested his head on his clasped hands, 
while memory was busy with the past. Phillips 
was anxious to give him a clerkship. He has 
made flattering offers before. Once he spent his 
evenings there. Now he is trying to keep aloof. 
Phillips does not like it. But what comes, said 
he to himself, from going to Phillips’? If father 
had not gone there, the chances are that he 
would have rivaled Newkirk in business. He is 
a man to plan wisely ; but the fascination of 
“ The Eagle ” has blasted his prospects. Look 


At His Best. 


125 


at Jack Myers ; he would never have murdered 
Denkler, but for going to Phillips’. Seth Payne 
lost his mind there, and Eddie Stephens — 

With a sigh Caleb started to his feet. Why 
must the tempter follow him in this way ? He 
was trying, doing his best to keep away ; but 
there were controlling influences to shape the 
course whether one would or not. Was he 
doomed to be always on the side of evil ? 

Mrs. Benton came in followed by Mrs. Glasse. 

“ Pretty, isn’t it?” said she, holding up her 
new delaine to her neighbor’s admiration. 

“ It will shame my calicoes,” said Mrs. Glasse, 
unable to conceal her desire for as pretty a dress. 

“.With the house needing so much, and the 
children to provide for, I shouldn’t have thought 
of it; but Caleb brought it,” Mrs. Benton said, 
with a smile. 

The two ladies began talking of the late visits. 
“I told Bess w'e must smart up a little more 
than we used to ; some folks are getting social, 
dropping in any time, and Mrs. Krebbs is every 


126 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

way as nice as Mrs. March,” remarked Mrs. 
Glasse. 

“ She’s in a little tucked up house, but she’s 
nice, and she has a way of making people com- 
fortable. I quite like her.” 

Mrs. Benton was threading her needle, and 
the eye was too small for the thread, or her eyes 
had lost something of their original quickness. 
Caleb quietly smiled, remembering that his 
mother had said, “A little too old, perhaps,” 
when the delaine was first unrolled. The next 
instant he was sending the thread through the 
eye of the needle much to Mrs. Benton’s satis- 
faction. 

It was not so much the thanks he received, 
as the smile that touched him. Could it be that 
a little kindness on his part had brought about 
this change ? Or was it alone womanly vanity, 
pleased with the thought of a new dress? He 
hardly thought it could be this ; he had seen her 
previously tricked out in finery that she felt par- 
ticularly becoming, the pleasure she now evinced 


At His Best . 


127 


was different from any he had seen. He was 
learning that people are to no small extent, 
so many hand mirrors, to reflect the looks we 
give them. 

“ If everybody were like Mrs. Krebbs, the 
world would be better than it is now,” said Ca- 
leb, thoughtfully. 

“She’s not the least like her husband, ’’laughed 
Mrs. Benton. “ When she comes it’s like a bit 
of sunshine tripping over the floor. I’d like to 
be like her for that matter.” 

Mrs. Glasse was knitting. She dropped a 
stitch and came nearer the lamp to set it right 
a^ain. 

“There’s a taking way about her, that’s cer- 
tain,” holding the stitch on the point of her 
needle, “she’s just all the world to everybody in 
a minute.” 

Caleb sat with his book open before him, still 
he was not reading. He was thinking of the dif- 
erence among the few people he knew. Some 
were like the golden glory of a June day. Mrs. 


128 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Krebbs was one of these, so was Mrs. Noble, and 
when they spoke, their words called up only good 
and right thoughts within him. There was not 
only satisfaction; but encouragement in their 
presence ; it did ngt seem a hard thing to live 
worthily ; others were cold and desolate. When 
they spoke every nerve tingled, and a feeling of 
defiance took possession of him. It was not safe 
ground ; he had promised himself never to in- 
dulge a train of thought sure to call up the old 
question of free moral agency. 

Not for a long time had Mrs. Glasse and Mrs. 
Benton passed an evening as happily. 

“ Helen will think mother is gone a long time,” 
she said at length. “I told Stephen I’d step 
into 4 The Eagle ’ ; he’s almost always there.” 

Mrs. Benton gave Caleb a quick look. She 
did not speak of her husband as spending his 
evenings at the same place. But each under- 
stood where he was likely to be found, and the 
possible necessity of Caleb’s strong arm to steady 
him home. 


At His Best. 


129 


A sudden pallor shot over the youth’s face. 
His hand trembled so that he fumbled a long 
time at the street door. Doubtful of his own 
strength he shrunk from going voluntarily into a 
place of temptation. If only Gordon Ferril could 
go with him! Still he could not suffer Mrs. 
Glasse to go by herself. 




CHAPTER XII. 



HELPING ALONG. 

! HE pretty dress was purchased expressly 
for a quiet, old-fashioned tea-party at Mr. 
Newkirk’s. Mrs. March rightly judging that the 
best way to assist Caleb, was to show his step- 
mother, possibilities lying within her reach ; thus 
stimulating her ambition and leading her out of 
her despond and envy by force of example. 

“ I can but try,” she said, “ and if I fail I shall 
have the consciousness of knowing that I made 
the attempt.” 

Mrs. Glasse looked neat and pretty in a fresh 

calico sprinkled with small bouquets of just- 
130 


Helping Along. 


131 


opening rosebuds. One could scarcely believe 
it was the same thin, white face so frequently 
seen at a late hour of night steadying her hus- 
band home from “ The Eagle.” 

After the first shyness had worn away, and all 
the curiosities had been looked at and admired, 
Mrs. Krebbs proposed an association of mothers 
to meet every week for the purpose of mutual 
improvement, the time to be spent in reading 
and sewing; an association in which each mem- 
ber should be permitted to speak freely of her 
wants and necessities and thus receive needful 
assistance. 

Mrs. Benton was visibly uneasy. As for sew- 
ing she had enough of that to do at home ; and 
as for reading, what time could she get ? to say 
nothing of the books. 

Mrs. March saw at a glance that Mrs. Benton 
labored under a misapprehension. She hastened 
to explain that the books would be such as would 
please and divert, and likewise aid them by sug- 


132 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

gestions with reference to their children, and the 
way to make their homes attractive. 

Some few assented to the proposed plan ; but 
others held back. Not till Mrs. Krebbs brought 
out some pretty print that she was to cut and 
fashion for her own little girls, and asked the la- 
dies to help her, and promised to help them at 
the next meeting did they fulty comprehend the 
mutual benefit to be derived from such associa- 
tion. 

Mrs. March brought a book from the library 
and read several short, suggestive articles while 
they sewed. This gave rise to remarks in which 
all were more or less interested, and thus conver- 
sation was lifted out of the ruts, and new ideas 
and thoughts took practical shape and form ; 
while the work of their hands was not in the 
least diminished. 

At night as they walked home, Mrs. Benton 
said : 

“ I am persuaded it is that boy at Newkirk’s. 
Caleb was up at Edgefield and spent Sunday 


Helping Along . 


133 


there and went to church. When he came back 
he could talk of nothing but Mrs. Ferril, Susie 
and May. Madge and Top were on their heads 
to do something new.” 

“ Any way we’ve had a real nice time,” Mrs. 
Glasse broke in, “and I’m glad for one we are to 
go again.” 

“ So am I,” echoed Mrs. Gleason, a tall, dark- 
eyed woman, the oldest of the group. “ We are 
not rich, but that is no reason we should not try 
to improve ourselves. God does not expect wine 
out of a pitcher of skim milk.” 

Said another, brimming over with thoughts of 
herself and her own hard life : 

“Some folks never have trouble. Mrs. March 
is nice enough. Who wouldn’t be with every- 
thing as her command ? Her brother lets her do 
just as she pleases. She never knows what it is 
to feel more dead than alive. That makes a 
great difference. 

There was weariness in the speakers voice and 
ail expression of pain on her face. Mrs. Krebbs 


134 That Boy of Newkirk's, 

heart was touched. She drew near and laid her 
hand on Mrs. Strath’s arm. 

“ When you have seen more of Mrs. March 
you will estimate her cheerfulness at its true 
value. Your children are all spared to you ; 
your husband is the same kind man that he al- 
ways was ; your home is comfortable and in 
many respects nice. Mrs. March is a widow, 
with but one child out of seven.” 

A ciy of mingled surprise and pain escaped 
Mrs. Strath. “ Is it possible I I never knew this 
before.” 

“It was the intensity of her sorrow that kept 
her so much to herself. Her brother is in every 
way kind to her; but it is not her own home,” 
returned Mrs. Krebbs. 

The sun was fast going down and clouds with 
saffron tints and pale pink fringes overspread the 
sky. “ The Eagle ” looked inviting in a coat of 
fresh paint. Bright hued flowers stood in the 
windows. Caleb Benton was coming down the 
steps. Mrs. Krebbs first thought was to pass on 


Helping Along. 


135 


without notice ; the next moment she turned and 
held out her hand. 

“ If you are on your way to Mr. Falcons, I 
will walk with you,” she said, pleasantly. 

44 1 brought a note,. Mr. Phillips is not at home, 
and will not be for an hour.” 

And you preferred not to wait,” she said with 
a sense of approval in her voice. 

44 I thought it would be best to come again,” 
he answered briefly. 

With full purpose to interest the youth, as 
well as to draw him into conversation, Mrs 
Krebbs made known the occasion of the meeting 
at Mr. Newkirk’s, and the number of ladies 
present. 

44 If you like our scheme, you will do all in 
your power to favor it,” she said pleasantly, and 
quite as though the plan would fail unless every 
member of the household resolved to help. 

44 It is not much that I can do ; but I can try 
to keep the peace,” he answered, frankly. 

44 Mrs. Benton told me that you visited Edge- 


136 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


field and was much pleased with everything you 
saw there,” Mrs. Krebbs continued.” 

“ Yes, I went home with Gordon Ferril. It 
would do you good to see his mother and his 
sisters.” 

Caleb’s face was full of enthusiasm. Mrs. 
Krebbs understood how much this visit had been 
to him ; but when she spoke of its effects upon 
his behavior to his mother and sisters, she saw 
how deeply he felt the difference between Gor- 
don’s case and his own. 

“ You see it is Gordon’s own mother,” he said, 
“ and she can bear with him.” 

Mrs. Krebbs felt a tender pity for the youth 
who had no own mother to bear with him. Nev- 
ertheless she hoped much from the new arrange- 
ment ; at least a start was made in the right di- 
rection. 

That night Phillips made a bitter complaint to 
Mr. Benton. “ I want a right smart clerk, and 
Caleb’s the one. You’ll allow I’ve made a £ood 
offer, better than I’d make anybody else. But 


Helping Along . 


1ST 


I want him, I have always wanted him, and I’ve 
always counted his father a good friend of mine,” 
bringing his hand down on Mr. Benton’s shoul- 
der. 

“ That’s so. I’ve brought many a customer in 
my time ; but I don’t quite like to say to the 
boy, 4 You must go.’ He’s under age, and I can ; 
but he wouldn’t be as good,” looking with a shy 
wink into Phillips’ face. 

“ Some folks say there’s a great change in Ca- 
leb for the better. But I always thought well 
of the boy, a regular chip of the old block. But 
lie’s got in with that boy at Newkirk’s and been 
home with him, got acquainted with his mother 
and sisters. It’s mostly so.” 

“ Caleb’s got a will of his own, it’s not many 
can bend him,” returned Mr. Benton. 

“ I may depend upon your influence may I 
not?” Phillips asked, determined to effect his 
purpose sooner or later. 

“ Certainly I will advise him ; but as I said 
before, it’s not many can bend him.” 



CHAPTER XIII. 


SMALL BEGINNINGS. 


HE loosening of a few stones, the simple 
W^p- u P ro °ti n g °f a branchless tree has turned 
the channel of a perennial stream ; the altered 
flow of the waters devastating luxurious fields 
and farms, or, perhaps filling up and converting 
salt marshes into beds of rich, alluvial soil. 

Fern-Hill was drinking in the invigorating 
breath of a new atmosphere. The current of 
popular favor, small as the mountain rivulet, was 
sensibly widening ; prejudice and preconceived 
opinions were giving way before the simplicity 
of Bible teaching. A spirit of inquiry was 
138 


Small Beginnings. 


189 


abroad. Men’s hearts were touched and every- 
where there was an upreaching after something 
higher, better and more abiding, than anything 
they had before known. In view of these things, 
Mr. Krebbs determined to hold in addition to 
stated religious services on the Sabbath, meetings 
on a succession of days and thus give an impetus 
to his church, and, if possible, awake an interest 
in the community. 

Mrs. Krebbs made known the plan to Mrs. 
March, and at the next meeting of the “Ladies’ 
Association,” it was duly laid before them. 

Mrs. Nesby looked to Mrs. Glasse and Mrs. 
Glasse looked to Mrs. Gleason as the oldest. The 
latter said : 

“ I think it would be nice, if we had leisure to 
go ; but housekeepers with little children and 
no help, find too much to do at home without 
going to church every day.” 

“ That is so ! ” said Mrs. Glasse, with a little 
vehemence. “ Mr. Glasse makes a stir every 
time I come here. I can’t say what he would do, 


140 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


if I should want to go to church every day, 
morning and night.” 

“ It takes a great deal of time to do for chil- 
dren,” Mrs. Benton said, “ I am sure I would 
like to go ; but come night I’m that tired, and 
father doesn’t mind. He says it never appeared 
to him genuine.” 

Mrs. Krebbs was not to be put down. With 
more energy than Mrs. March, she was also more 
accustomed to meet and grapple with opposition. 
She was not so sensitive, knowing that the petu- 
lant fancies of a sick man make no difference 
with the treatment he receives from his physi- 
cian. 

“If Mr. Krebbs consulted his own case he 
would surely not have the meetings,” she said, 
with a persuasive tenderness that touched each 
heart. “ If you are housekeepers, so am I, with 
little children clinging to my skirts and with no 
one to help me.” 

“ And a sight of visitors ; that is so ! ” Mrs. 


Small Beginnings. 


141 


Benton spoke witli emphasis. The idea of her 
pastor’s wife doing her own work, taking care of 
three small children, and visiting every family, 
especially, if any were sick, swept away many of 
her objections. From offering excuses she began 
to consider it possible to attend. “Caleb will 
want to go,” she said, “and father, if he’s not 
too tired.” 

To facilitate this plan, Gordon took another 
walk to Edgefield for the double purpose of see- 
ing his mother, and of asking Mr. Noble to spend 
'a week at Fern-Hill. 

“ Yes, dear, I think I must go,” said Mr. Noble, 
as his wife glanced over the table for Willie’s last 
letter to read to Gordon. “ I feel sure it is the 
beginning of a good work there.” 

“ Next to his mother, Gordon felt that he owed 
much to Mrs. Noble. Homesick and depressed 
as he was when he first went to Mr. Newkirk’s, 
he would never have staid, but for her encour- 
aging words. With gratitude he now tells her 


142 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


of the Sabbath-school and the Reading Club. 
“Still, there are a good many boys who stand 
out.” 

“ Is your friend Caleb faithful ? ” Mrs. Noble 
asked. 

“ Yes, but I am sometimes afraid he goes to 
church to please me. In many respects Caleb 
Benton is superior to every other boy in the vil- 
lage. But he has strong prejudices, and I stand 
up for him as my friend, and he puts himself out 
a little, I think, to please me.” 

An ingenerous blush suffused Gordon’s cheeks. 
He could not keep back anything in talking of 
Caleb Benton, for the reason that he desired to 
be his friend ; and by knowing just how he stood, 
Mrs. Noble would be the better able to advise 
regarding him. 

“ The faith that removes mountains occupies 
the heart to the exclusion of doubt and unrest. 
The fact of Caleb’s going with you, from what- 
ever cause, shows a nature that can be touched. 
Between the planting and the harvest there are 


Small Beginnings. 


143 


many dark days, days of drought and seeming 
loss,” returned Mrs. Noble, with the smile he so 
well remembered. 

Mrs. Krebbs was an old school-mate of Mrs. 
Noble’s, and Mrs. Ferril was formerly known 
to Mrs. March, and thus a friendly relation was 
established, and intercourse between the two vil- 
lages visibly strengthened. 

Mrs. Ferril was overjoyed to see her boy, and 
Susie and May could hardly keep it secret, that 
Mrs. Noble had promised to take Chester some 
fine morning and drive them over to Fern-Hill. 

Briefly, Gordon spoke of his object in coming. 

“ I am sure the people will like Mr. Noble,” 
Susie said. “ And is he to preach every night ? ” 

“ Every night ! ” exclaimed May, “ is a little 
too much for a borrowed minister.” 

Gordon smiled. 

“A borrowed minister,” laughed Susie. 

“ What then ? ” Mr. Krebbs is not to come to 
Edgefield,” returned practical May. 

“ Plainly it is not a case of exchange, but of 


144 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

borrowing,” said Gordon with a laugh in which 
all joined. 

“ If Caleb Benton was pleased with his visit 
you must bring him again. W e frequently speak 
of him,” remarked Mrs. Ferril. 

“ You remember he did not want to go to 
church ; but he did go, and was glad he went,” 
Susie said with enthusiasm. 

Gordon did not walk back to Fern-Hill ; but 
rode over with Mr. Noble. Thus the work was 
fairly begun. A few days later Mrs. Noble 
joined her husband, seemingly quite as much at 
home, as she was at Edgefield. 

Mr. Newkirk did not believe in “ protracted 
meetings;” neither did Mr. Falcon. Still, they 
were induced to go, and going once, went again. 
Mr. and Mrs. Noble were rare singers, and to 
hear them sing, brought scores to church who 
never came to listen to the word of God. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

HOUSING THE ENEMY. 

«lff> T ERN-HILL was sensibly shaken, Phillips 
declared that ministers were a set of 
idlers billeted upon people who cared nothing 
at all for them. For his part he did not know 
what all this preaching would amount to, just as 
though one set of men knew so much more than 
everybody else ; he had his own ideas, he knew 
that “everything was made just so, grew so, all 
luck and chance, any amount of praying won’t 
change it.” 

M5 


146 


That Boy of Newkirk's . 


“ T don’t care to hear them preach ; though 
for that matter the new one has a way of speak- 
ing that makes a fellow feel a little uneasy, he 
can’t just tell whether it is true or not, and if it 
is true, fellows like we are stand a poqr chance,” 
Mr. Benton answered. 

“Whew!” exclaimed Phillips, sending up a 
cloud of smoke, and watching it as it coiled and 
uncoiled and was lost. 

u I have liked singing ever since I was a boy, 
and that woman sings beautifully ; ” and so say- 
ing Benton stumbled over the floor to the win- 
dow, where he stood a moment looking out into 
the night. 

The last stroke of the bell died away, the 
street so lately full of people was comparatively 
still, the lights in the church burned brightly. 
Benton turned from the window. 

“ Suppose you go, Phillips. You’ve never 
heard her.” 

“ Go ! ” giving him a fierce look. “ Are you 
such a fool, Benton, just to hear a woman sing ? 


Rousing the Enemy. 


147 


No indeed ! Let us stay and have a rousing 
good time. Some of the boys will be sure to 
come in.” 

Before the words were out, the door opened 
and young Stephens entered. 

“ Told you so ! ” exclaimed Phillips, with a 
light laugh. “ I say, Ed. Benton was getting 
lonesome. What will you have ? ” stepping 
briskly behind the counter. 

“ Nothing just now, Phil. To tell the truth, I 
have been to the meetings, one or two nights, 
with Fanny, and I half promised her to go to- 
night. Thought I’d drop in to see who’s here.” 

The speaker was a young man of more than 
ordinary ability, judging from his exterior. The 
manner in which he spoke of his sister was re- 
spectful, and his voice had that mellow cadence 
that betokens the finer qualities of mental apti- 
tude. A capricious, tender eyed youth; but 
capable of better things than he has as yet 
known, and to-night perfectly sober. 


148 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ So you won’t have anything,” Phillips said, 
not at all savage this time. 

“ Fanny will wait for me, and I like to keep 
my word when I can,” and he turned to go out. 

“ If you don’t mind, Ed., I’ll go along,” Ben- 
ton said, at the same time smoothing his hat with 
his coat-sleeve. “ My folks like to go.” 

Phillips had an expletive at ‘his tongue’s end ; 
but he forbore. There was a better way to 
shame them out of their weakness, and, relight- 
ing his pipe, he set himself to devise a plan to 
bring the meetings into contempt. To do this 
successfully, however, he must know a little 
more of what was said and done there, and with 
this intent he put aside his pipe and went with 
Stephens and Benton. 

The house was full to overflowing. Mrs. 
Krebb’s quick eye caught sight of the three 
men, and immediately a seat was found where 
they could both hear and see conveniently. 

After a prayer, that was like a child’s asking 
of his father supplies for all his needs, a hymn 


Rousing the Enemy . 


149 


was sung that prepared the audience to receive 
the word as the ploughed field receives the seed 
that is to spring up into an abundant harvest. 

Mr. Noble spoke effectively of the need every 
man felt in himself of help in time of trouble : 

“ When sorrow comes upon us like a flood, we 
need a strong arm to lean upon. When we feel 
ourselves fettered by some enslaving appetite, or 
passion, we want a higher power than our own 
to free us from the terrible grasp. The young 
man knows not his capacity for good ; but he 
needs wisdom, guidance, direction. He needs a 
friend closer and dearer than a brother. This 
friend he will find in Jesus. Have you a desire 
in your heart to be freed from an enslaving 
habit ? Ask Jesus to take that habit from you. 
He has promised to help those who ask him. 
Listen to his words. ‘ If thou canst believe ; all 
things are possible to him that believeth ! ’ We 
are privileged to ask whatever is necessary for 
our salvation ; and he will give us of his abun- 
dance .’ 1 


150 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Without irreverence and in a tone that showed 
intense interest, a voice came from the audi- 
ence : . 

44 Prove that, mister preacher. Here a man 
needs help if ever a man did.” 

44 Nothing easier, my friend,” said Mr. Noble, 
without any apparent interruption. 44 Christ 
came from heaven on purpose to seek and to save 
them that are lost. He is the great Physician of 
souls, and all that have applied to him have been 
saved. If you were sick and nigh unto death, 
and the physician came with his prescription 
you would follow it and perhaps recover. The 
best physician in the world cannot heal in every 
case, for it is appointed unto man once to die. 
But Christ is a physician who never fails to save 
the life of the soul. 

44 But the physician can do you no good if you 
refuse to take his medicine; neither can Jesus 
aid you, except you believe that he is both able 
and willing to do it. Feeling your need, ask 
him on your seat, just where you now are. He is 


Rousing the Enemy . 


151 


here. 4 1 am with you alway,’ he said to his dis- 
ciples. He delights in giving gifts. He died 
that you might become an heir to exceeding 
great riches. The robe of righteousness is wait- 
ing for you, the seal ready to be placed upon 
your forehead. Come, all things are ready, and 
all things are yours, and you are Christ’s, if you 
will. ‘I thought there was something particular 
to do,’ you sajr, perhaps. So there is. Ask, and 
asking take a full, free pardon. It is not diffi- 
cult to comprehend. If either of. you should ask 
me the way to some given place, and I should 
give you minute direction, you would know how 
to go, and if }^ou followed my direction you 
would be sure to reach the place. Come to 
Christ in the same way. Believe that he will 
save you, that he will free you from this fearful 
yoke of bondage, this terrible appetite, and he 
will.” 



CHAPTER XV. 



COUNTING THE COST. 

SRN-HILL may be said to have reached 
a crisis. Some of the best citizens showed 
in their daily walk and conversation a radical 
change. Others were stirred to do evil beyond 
their former experience. Phillips was beside 
himself. His house was nearly deserted, his 
gains were cut off. 

“Not but what I look for them back,” he said 
to Glasse, who made it a point to parade his 
faithfulness before the hotel keeper ; “ but to 


think of such abominable weakness in men who 
pretend to be men,” was uttered in a tone of con- 
tempt. 


152 


Counting the Cost . 


153 


“There is no doubt about Benton. Now the 
singing is over he will be sure to come back,” 
answered Glasse by way of encouragement. 

“Newkirk has not once been in,” grumbled 
Phillips. 

“Newkirk!” exclaimed Glasse. “Newkirk 
never was here.” 

“Newkirk was not here every day, but he 
was here to countenance me. We can’t expect 
such men every day ; but it makes a place re- 
spectable to have them come in occasionally. 
Newkirk was as good as forty of the common 
sort for influence,” was the answer. 

Glasse winced ; what was the use of parading 
his friendship and his loyalty. Newkirk was 
the man to be missed. Suppose he had gone, 
would Phillips have cared ? It was not a pleasant 
consideration. He felt humbled, and going 
home earlier than usual, was persuaded by Helen 
to go to the prayer-meeting. 

“If you do not like it, father, we can come 
out,” she said in a conciliatory voice. 


154 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


It was almost the first time Glasse had ever 
been seen in the church, and when he came 
home, he was honest enough to admit that he 
was glad he went. 

Mrs. Krebbs had many suggestions. Not only 
was the Reading Club kept up ; but Fanny 
Stephens came with her brother, and Caleb Ben- 
ton brought Madge. At Christmas, Mr. New- 
kirk presented them with one hundred new vol- 
umes and a handsome walnut case to keep 
them in. 

“ By the time we read these through, it is 
quite possible Mr. Falcon will do as much,” Ca- 
leb said with an instinctive feeling of the good 
to be attained through the reading of these 
books. 

“ I see no reason why we may not set our 
stakes anew and enlarge our borders,” Gordon 
said. “ Phillips is ready to admit a great falling 
off in his business.” 

“ He lays it all to the singing, and for that 
matter there is a power in the hymns to stir 


Counting the Cost. 


155 


men’s hearts. I never saw my father and mother 
moved as much by anything else,” returned 
Caleb. 

“ I feel thankful that I ever learned to sincr, 
there are a good many sweet singers around us, 
we must make this more of a speciality in our 
prayer-meetings,” Gordon continued. 

From what has been said it must not be in- 
ferred that all the people at Fern-Hill attended 
church, or were particularly interested in the 
fact that a few of their neighbors lived purer 
lives than they had been living. True, the 
change in Mr. Newkirk was very marked ; but 
many thought it was brought about by human 
agencies, and would soon pass by, like the run- 
ning out of the tide. 

“ We must not be too anxious,” Mrs. March 
said to Gordon when he came with words of en- 
couragement, or was cast down in view of wrong 
done by those from whom he expected better 
things. 

“ We must not expect too much of those just 


156 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


commencing the Christian life. Growth that is 
strong and vigorous must know the secret of 
light and shade ; heat and cold. It is possible 
for a good man to take backward steps and to 
repent of taking them.” 

“ But those out of the church are so eager to 
take it up,” pleaded Gordon. 

“ I know they are ; but can you recall the in- 
stance where Jesus turned one away who came 
back to him ? Peter denied him, but Peter’s 
after life attested the strength of his love for 
Christ.” 

“ Does God suffer this in order that we may 
become thoroughly acquainted with our own 
hearts, and thus through doubt of our own 
strength cling to him more firmly?” 

“We too frequently consider the Christian 
as only inheriting the joy of being a child of 
God, forgetting that he is likewise to be partaker 
of the suffering, crucified with Christ and thus 
fitted to reign with him. The infant does not 


Counting the Cost. 


157 


step into manhood. The life of the soul like the 
life of the body is a chain of progression, nour- 
ished and strengthened by what it feeds upon. 
Brea'd sustains the body ; the bread of Life, that 
is, Christ in the heart is the sustenance of the 
soul.” 

Mrs. March spoke with deep feeling. The 
lesson she was striving to impart, she had learned 
in the school of affliction. A Christian, she 
shrunk under the blow that tore her idols from 
her grasp. In the silence of her chamber she 
brooded over her trouble and would not be com- 
forted. It is different now. She realizes that it 
was God’s way to bring her to receive Christ as 
the one altogether lovely. 

“ I like to think of the image of Christ stamped 
upon our hearts,” Gordon said, after a pause in 
which he seemed to be turning some question in 
his mind. “If we carry this image in our hearts 
will it not influence all our thoughts and ac- 
tions ? ” 


158 


That Boy of Newkirlcs. 


“ Most certainly. It is by gazing upon this 
image, until we become filled with its beauty, 
that renders us charitable as the beginner in the 
Christian race, although he denies his Lord as 
did Peter. In spring when the sun melts the 
snow on the hillside, in the clefts and valleys 
white patches still remain. Thus the rays of the 
spiritual sun may penetrate the soul, and still 
there remain heights and depths where the ice is 
not all melted. How much must be melted 
away before the soul becomes like Christ in hu- 
mility and love.’’ 

Mrs. March paused. She was not sure but 
she was saying too much. Possibly it would 
prove a hindrance, rather than a blessing to the 
young friend, who was striving day by day to 
follow more closely the pattern, Christ. 

“ When I consider this, I better comprehend 
the growth in Christian life,” returned Gordon 
with no shade of weariness. “ This beholding 
ourselves in the image of Christ has this pecu- 


Counting the Cost. 


159 


liarity, that while we more and more discover 
the darkness in ourselves, all the while the light 
is pouring upon us.” 

“ Paul makes this plain,” she said. “ But we 
all with open face, beholding as in a glass the 
glory of the Lord, are changed into the same 
image, from glory to glory, even as by the spirit 
of the Lord.” 

“ Paul had gifts superior to any other man. 
What a giant in intellect ! and in spiritual 
strength there have been none to equal him,” 
Gordon said, admiringly. 

“ We may not have a tithe of Paul’s mental 
power and scholarly attainments, but in love to 
Christ we are privileged to equal him. It is not 
splendid powers and broad intelligent grasping 
in science, or sesthetical culture that renders us 
acceptable to God. It is love in our hearts, love 
that is the permeating principle of life, the grand 
motive power that sets all the springs of our be- 
ing in motion,” Mrs. March responded. 


160 


That Boy of Newkirk's . 


It was Mr. Newkirk’s hour for family prayers. 
Gordon had only time to say, “ You cannot tell 
how much good these little talks do me. I am 
better able to show others the way, haying first 
learned myself.” 





CHAPTER XVI. 

COUNTER INFLUENCE. 

JURING the holidays the young people 
were invited . to Edgefield to meet Wil- 
lie Noble and one or two college friends he 
brought with him. In Mrs. Noble’s note of in- 
vitation especial mention was made of Edward 
Stephens and his sister Fanny. 

“ Edward pleads excuse, and Fanny will not 
go without him,” Caleb said to a few young men 
who met in Newkirk’s store to make arrange- 
ments. 

161 


162 


That Boy of. Newkirk's . 


44 It is possible he does not know that Mrs. 
Noble, sent a particular request that he should 
make one of the company,” Gordon spoke up. 

44 That’s the thing,” laughed Frank Nesby. 
44 He got wind of it someway and so declined.” 

44 A little afraid,” laughed another. 

44 Mrs. Noble is a close questioner,” returned 
Frank, showing his white, even teeth as he 
spoke. 

44 Mrs. Noble is the last woman in the world to 
be afraid of,” Gordon said, without a smile. 44 1 
think we must persuade Edward to go with us, 
if only for Fanny’s sake.” 

The door opened to a bright-eyed youth whom 
all greeted with a shout. When the excitement 
was over, the latter said : 

44 1 saw Derwent Phillips this morning. He is 
here for the holidays.” 

44 That accounts for it ! ” exclaimed Caleb, 
jumping out of his chair. 

44 Accounts for what! ” laughed Frank. 

44 Should think as much ! ” added another. 


Counter Influence. 163 

“We are rather dull of comprehension over 
here.” 

“ Why, the Edgefield trip. Ed. won’t go,” re- 
turned Caleb. 

“ Who says he won’t ? ” 

“ Has anybody asked him ? ” 

“ Of course he has been invited,” in answer 
to the last question ; “ he plead an engagement. 
It is easy enough to understand,” shouted Caleb. 

All were eager to plan and devise ; meantime 
Gordon was sitting quite still; to know that 
Derwent Phillips was in town filled him with in- 
definable dread. Years ago Derwent’s pranks 
were a terror to the villagers ; even his uncle 
could do nothing with him, and as a last resort 
he was sent to another relative, and from -that 
time ’till now little improvement had been heard 
of him. Under the plea of “old friends” it 
would be difficult to shake him off, and espec- 
ially for Edward Stephens, on account of the in- 
timate association of former years. 


164 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ What do you say Gordon ? ” cried Caleb 
with more than his usual impulsiveness. 

“ I am not sure that it is best to go if Steph- 
ens is to be left at home.” 

“ Not go ! ” 

“ Would it be such a grievous disappointment, 
Caleb?” 

There was no reproach in the tone ; but Caleb 
felt how much greater reason Gordon had to 
be disappointed. Before he could answer Frank 
broke forth : 

“ It would be a pity for us to lose the pleasure, 
to say nothing of Mrs. Noble, just because Ed- 
ward Stephens finds better company at home.” 

“Perhaps Mrs. Noble would be better pleased 
to have us stay for that very reason,” answered 
Gordon. 

“ I do not think we should give it up until we 
have seen Stephens and tried the strength of 
persuasion,” said Frank with quick, energetic 
movement. Suppose we appoint an especial 
committee to wait upon him.” 


Counter Influence . 165 

“ A good idea,” shouted another. “ Gordon 
for instance.” 

To this proposition all assented. 

A few hours later Gordon Ferril was on his 
way to the home of Edward Stephens. Fanny 
was alone ; to his inquiry for her brother she 
answered, while ablush suffused her cheeks; 

“ Derwent Phillips is at home ; there is a lit- 
tle entertainment at 4 The Eagle ’ to-night. 
Edward was invited.” 

The voice was the suppression of what would 
have been a cry had Fanny been alone. All 
these weeks she had been so hopeful and every 
day her song had been of deliverance. 

Gordon sat white and dumb. He wished his 
mother could take his place, or Mrs. Noble could 
be there to speak a word of comfort. Fanny 
was the first to speak. 

“You know how much interest Edward 
showed during the meetings. Fie went every 
night, and all the days he was singing snatches 


166 


That Boy of Neivkirk's. 


of hymns. I cannot bear to think it is all as 
though it had never been.” 

44 What leads you to think Edward has so 
greatly changed since the meetings ? ” Gordon 
asked in return. 

44 For a few weeks he attended church with 
me regularly: now he tires of the books we 
read, and the quiet of an evening at home, as at 
church, is oppressive.” 

44 Have you intimated to him that you would 
like to go to Edgefield ? ” 

44 1 told him I would like so much to go, pro- 
vided he would go with me.” 

44 What reply did he make ? ” 

44 He plead an engagement.” 

44 And the engagement you judge to be with 
Derwent Phillips? ” 

44 He has been with Derwent a great deal; 
but I hardly think he would remain at home for 
that. As he now feels, I do not think he cares 
to meet Mrs. Noble,” Fanny answered. 


Counter Influence . 


167 


“ I am sorry, for I think she will be greatly 
disappointed. The invitation was so expressly 
for Edward, that I have doubted the propriety 
of accepting it, until it will please him to go,” 
he said. 

“ I cannot think it will be right to refuse be- 
cause Edward chooses to remain,” replied Fanny. 
“ Yon must go, I think.” 

“ Will you go, if Edward still refuses ? The 
invitation was for you quite as well.” 

“ If I should leave for a few days, Edward 
would have no other resource than ‘ The Eagle.’ 
No, I cannot leave him, and still, my influence 
is nothing when Derwent Phillips is at home.” 

“ I remember there was a certain fascination 
about him, making it difficult to refuse anything 
he proposed,” Gordon answered. 

“ This fascination, as you call it, is far more po- 
tent now than it was then. Perhaps, I wrong 
him; but I cannot help thinking, that his 
smooth speech and polished manner is only a 


168 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


lure ,* that under all this he is plotting evil,” she 
said with a certain resoluteness, that showed 
she had overcome, in a measure, her tears. 

Looking over the room, Gordon found it dif- 
ficult to persuade himself that Edward could in 
reality prefer the companionship of Derwent 
Phillips and his set, to the quiet of a home full 
of warmth and beauty, and with a sister tender 
and loving as Fanny. “ Bear one anothers bur- 
dens,” came into his heart. It sometimes hap- 
pens that one distrustful of his own ability, and 
loving to ask and receive advice from older 
Christians, becomes strong when driven to de- 
pend upon himself. Gordon felt that he could 
not go without dropping a word of encourage- 
ment. Edward had not wandered so far away 
that he could not be brought back. 

“ Doubtless you are right to remain at home 
and make it pleasant for your brother. One 
false step does not necessitate a life time of false 
steps ; as soldiers join hands and bear the 


Counter Influence . 


169 


wounded to a place of safety, so we must rally 
around Edward td sustain and help him, if pos- 
sible.” 

There was something so bright and hopeful in 
Gordon’s face, Fanny felt encouraged. 

“ It is possible I have been too much cast 
down; but Edward was counted a convert, and 
this turning back brings reproach. I see now 
that I have thought more of this, than of win- 
ning him back. 

“ This is a lesson that I have been trying to 
learn, it is, perhaps the only good thing left for 
me to do.” Gordon said as he rose to leave. 
“ My mother used to say to me, 4 To bear each 
others burdens is the loving service which Christ 
asks of us, and which when done for his sake 
will give us a new impulse in the heavenly life. 
By close abiding in Christ, the very things 
which become stumbling blocks to some, will to 
us become stepping stones to a higher, holier 
• life.’” 


170 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Once again in Lis own room Gordon felt some- 
thing of oppression. “Edward was counted a 
convert and this turning back brings reproach,” 
still rung in his ears. 




CHAPTER XVII. 



DRIFTING. 

! HE visit to Edgefield proved both pleasant 
and profitable, Mrs. Noble sent a mes- 
sage by Gordon to Edward and after that the 
young men saw less and less of each other. 
Not alone Derwent Phillips ; but Willard 
Holmes and Dick Schelling were doing their 
best to render “ The Eagle” attractive. Every 
day Fanny came into the grocery, on her way 
from school, to ask had anything been seen of 

her brother ? New fears were awakened as 

171 


172 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Gordon related his attempts to meet Edward in 
the old, friendly spirit, with which he used to meet 
him. 

“ Possibly I ought not to feel so, but I think 
it is a plan to throw odium upon the church. I 
have been told that Phillips made his boast 
4 Edward Stephens has the appetite for drink to 
the same extent he ever had it and I will prove 
it before the winter is over,’ he said.” 

“ I sometimes question why it is that an un- 
scrupulous man like Phillips has so much power. 
Let him set his heart upon any one scheme or 
plan and he has the means and the ability to ex- 
ecute it,” Gordon returned, “meantime we must 
do what we can, I am persuaded there is some- 
thing for Edward to do better than he is now 
♦ 

doing. We meet to-morrow night at Mrs. 
Krebbs. If possible, come.” He could say no 
more. He knew how Fanny’s heart ached for 
this dear, only brother, and her tears made him 
dumb. 

Next to Mr. Newkirk’s, Mr. Krebbs’ house 


Drifting. 


173 


was the most popular. A little to her surprise 
Fanny did not have to press the invitation. 
Edward assented in such a way as to set her 
heart beating. Perhaps the time was come 
when, weary of his associates, he would will- 
ingly leave them. It was a pleasant thought to 
her. 

Mrs. Krebbs had the rare tact t)f setting her 
guests at their ease. Edward was in high spir- 
its, chatting freely with the younger people ; 
with an occasional banter, so sprightly, and so 
much like “ old times,” Mrs. Krebbs said to 
Fanny, the latter was thrown off her guard. 
When Gordon came in at a late hour she said to 
him smilingly : 

“ I have thought so much of what we said the 
other evening, and I am glad that I staid at 
home, Edward read to me last night while I 
sewed and to-night he is bright and pleasant as 
he used to be.” 

Mrs. March had her plans for the winter ; in 
addition to the Reading Club she proposed de- 


174 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


bates upon leading questions of the day. “ This 
will bring out talent,” she said “and will lead to 
study and patient research.” 

“All very well for those who have time,” 
Caleb Benton answered ; “but short days and 
full of business will prevent my doing much in 
this direction.” 

“Time is just the same w r e can divide it as 
we like,” laughed Frank Nesby. 

Gordon and Fanny were still talking and plan- 
ning something to help Edward and leave him 
no time to fall into the snare laid for him. 

“Gordon has not given us his opinion,” Mrs. 
March interrupted. 

“ I must first know the subject,” he answered 
with a smile. 

In the laugh that followed Fanny joined look- 
ing so bright and pretty, Caleb could not help 
from whispering to his friend, that if he had a 
sister who cared for him as Fanny did for her 
brother he was sure he would never do anything 
to trouble her. While Mrs. March was explain- 


Drifting. 


175 


ing to Gordon, Mrs. Krebbs came up with Ed- 
ward. 

“ J ust the thing for winter evenings,” Gordon 
was saying, “ I will join gladly ; the practice of 
speaking upon subjects with which we are more 
or less familiar, will have a good effect upon our 
future usefulness.” 

Edward was not willing to compromise him- 
self, still he did not refuse. Only saying, “ When 
I have time, but when a fellow has so much to 
do he cannot promise.” 

Fanny made an effort to smile lightly ; but 
there was a weight she could not throw aside. 
Why did Edward hesitate, was he afraid the 
evenings would be so occupied it would leave 
him no time to visit “ The Eagle ? ” 

“ Do not fear,” whispered Gordon as he inter- 
preted the speaking face. “ You persuaded him 
to come here with you, Strength is given for 
each step ; but we must ask for it.” 

“I see, you blame me for being so easily 
moved,” she said looking into his face ; “ but it 


176 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


is life or death for Edward with only a hairs 
breadth between.” 

“ True, we have each-to make choice and the 
balance is nicely adjusted ; but the aggregate of 
our influence accompanied by the power of the 
Spirit will turn the scale in the right direction. 
Do not distrust him.” 

“ When I listen to you I am encouraged, only 
when I am alone and Edward seems capricious 
and undecided do I give way. If he could only 
look as happy as he did an hour ago,” sending 
her gaze in the direction of her brother. 

“ This is the cool wind sent to check, not de- 
stroy our hope,” answered Gordon. 

“ How is it that you have learned so much? ” 
Fanny was forced to ask. 

“I had a mother who knew just how much I 
needed to be led in a plain path, she taught me 
the lessons that I attempt to teach to others.” 

Mrs. Krebbs came to say that a collation 
awaited them in the library. Gordon offered 


' Drifting. 


17T 


Fanny liis arm, when they returned to the par- 
lor Edward was not to be found. 

“ Somebody came for hinr. He went out and 
did not return,” Mrs. Krebbs said. 

Fanny took the alarm. “ I must follow him,” 
she said to Gordon. 

“ Have you any idea where Edward has 
gone? ” he asked. 

“Doubtless some engagement with Derwent 
Phillips,” she answered. 

“ It may be best for you to go home, but I 
would not advise you to follow him. If it is a 
plan, it will do no good and only anger him.” 

“But the uncertainty, I do not know that he 
is with Derwent,” pleaded Fanny. 

“ If it will comfort you I will see,” Gordon 
answered. 

“If you will take me home and then go to 
6 The Eagle,’ I think I can be quiet. It cannot 
be that God will allow evil associates to destroy 
this brother, for whom I have so often asked his 
mercy and loving kindness.” 


178 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ This is the golden chain let down from 
Heaven for you to grasp. Do not lose hold of 
it. Let us go now, I cannot think Edward will 
refuse to come home with me wherever he 
may be.’* 

Gordon’s voice was bright with hope. Fanny 
looked up and was comforted. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 



FARTHER OUT,. 

EEKS passed ; if Fanny did not always 
succeed in keeping Edward at home, 
she had the consciousness of feeling in herself a 
purer trust, and a firmer grasp of the Divine 
promises. There were not so many homesick 
hours, not such a withering, deadening weight 
at her heart. It was easier for her to ask, and 
asking she could better wait. It was easier for 

her to throw her burden upon the Lord, content 

179 


180 That Boy of Newkirk's. 

to walk by faith, and confident that in his own 
good time he would bring it to pass. 

It was later than usual one night when Ed- 
ward returned, the Debating Club were to meet 
at Mr. Newkirk’s and Edward was expected to 
take part. The supper table was spread with 
unusual care ; the few house plants w T ere in 
blossom and the open grate with the warm fire- 
light gave the room a cheerful look. Fanny put 
aside her work and walked to the window. She 
was happy in anticipation of all the evening 
would bring. In debate she was justly proud 
of Edward ; once entering upon his subject it 
was impossible not to follow him with interest, 
his rich, musical voice now bearing his hearers 
on like the onward flow of a calm pure river ; 
then flashing and scintillating with wit and 
fancy, melting the audience to tears, or convuls- 
ing them with laughter ; but sure to carry their 
judgment. 

As the hour drew near Fanny grew uneasy. 
Had he forgotten ? And should she go out for 


Farther Out. 


181 


him? were questions she could not put aside — 
a moment later and just as she was beginning to 
feel that she could bear it no longer the door 
opened. 

“ What has kept you so late, Edward ? ” 
springing forward as her brother entered. “ I 
was just on the point of going out after you. 
It is the night for the debate, you know.” 

Edward did not say it ; but he had stopped at 
“ The Eagle,” and was hot in a good mood. 

“ Yes, I know it, it is always something.” 

There was no reply. Fanny brought some 
steaming dishes from the kitchen and the supper 
was taken almost in silence on the part of Ed- 
ward. All the time Fanny was trying to talk 
pleasantly. At the close she said : 

“We shall have but a few minutes to get 
ready in ; it is now almost the hour.” 

“ I am not going,” remarked Edward without 
looking up. “ I am not prepared to speak on 
that question.” 

“And all the time I thought you was study- 


182 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


ing up and going to do so well,” Fanny said lay- 
ing lier hand on his arm and looking into his 
face with the old, kind smile. 

He shook her hand off, as though it had been 
a viper and quickly turned his back upon her. 

“ It is too much, they have no right to ask it 
of me.; every night something. I have not had 
an evening to myself in an age.” 

“ I thought you had all the evenings, Ed- 
ward.” 

“ When have I had one ? ” fiercely. 

“ What do you call it to-night? ” 

“ To-night ! I declare ! to go and spout for 
an hour and a half and then listen to the verdict 
given without taste, or judgment.” 

“ You know you always win,” came gently. 

“ Too easy a victory, I can’t bear it,” he said 
crossing the room to the window. 

“Suppose you go and if you do not wish to 
debate, tell them so.” 

“ Fudge ! I’m not going, you can go and I 
will come for you.” 


Farther Out. 


183 


“ I cannot enjoy it without you are there, Ed- 
ward.” 

“Well I am not going, I am not going any- 
where. There’s Derwent Phillips wants me, I 
told him I shouldn’t go.” 

Fanny made no answer, she saw at a glance 
how it was going, and resolved not to irritate, if 
she could not persuade him to go with her. 
Edward went up to his room ; when he returned 
Fanny sat at the table stitching a wristband. 

“ If you are not going anywhere I thought 
perhaps, you would finish the article you begun 
last night,” she said looking up. 

“ I must say, I think it silly enough for you 
to stay at home,” he returned while a hot flush 
swept up to his forehead. 

“ If } T ou stay at home Edward, I would 
rather stay with you.” 

“ Who said I was to stay at home ? ” sav- 
agely. 

“ I understood you to say that you were not 
going anywhere.” 


184 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“I’m not going anywhere ; hat I’m going oat 
jast for the sake of going, I want to be free a lit- 
tle while.” 

“ Am I such a fetter to you ? ” springing up 
and standing with her tearful eyes fixed on her 
brother’s face. 

“There! there! Fanny. I dare say I’m a 
bear. Sit down I won’t be gone long ; but I 
can’t go to Newkirk’s to-night; I’m not pre- 
pared and I can’t be prepared anyway.” 

The sight of Fanny’s white face had changed 
Edward’s manner. But he could not stay with 
her. Fanny was too wise to say any more, and 
only as the street door closed upon her brother 
did she give way to weeping. 

The moonbeams broke against the pearly sur- 
face of the snow. The mill was in sight, with 
the broken wheel rimmed with ice. How viv- 
idly it all came back to his mind, and to his 
heart, the old days before the demon drink took 


'Farther Out. 


185 


possession of Lis soul. It did not seem so long 
ago since lie skated there with the very boys 
who are now in the Debating Club to-night ; it 
requires no stretch of fancy — the ice swept 
basin hemmed in with fretted snow, the red 
glare from the fire, witli tall, willowy figures 
cutting circles and then darting away with al- 
most the ease and rapidity of birds on the wing. 

Edward walked briskly. He came out to es- 
cape thoughts that tortured him; the sight of 
the old mill sent him backward ; but with no 
ease of spirit. Now he chides himself that he 
does not break away from Derwent and his 
class ; then he cries out for Gordon Ferril to 
help him. He is conscious that Fanny is trou- 
bled over him, but what can he do ? A moment 
filled in with the memory of the pure joys he 
used to know, and the stricken youth turned 
and fled. He did not purpose to go to “ The 
Eagle,” but he was there; a stylish sleigh, with 
abundance of rich robes stood before the door. 


186 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“Just in time! I thought you would think 
better of it and come,” said a tall, bright-eyed 
young man muffled in fur. 

“But, I am not going, I am on the debate to- 
night can’t go anywhere,” Edward answered. 

“ What’s the difference ! you are not there,” 
laughed the same speaker taking the visitor by 
the arm and ushering him into the large, well 
lighted room. 

“ Should have been after you in half a min- 
ute,” cried another. “ Let’s have a drink, you 
are shaking with cold.” 

Edward tried to evade it. Only that morn- 
ing Fanny won a promise from him that he 
would have no more to do with Willard Holmes, 
a perfectly civil young man vibrating between 
the city and Fern-Hill, with money to spend 
and no legitimate calling, it was a wonder to the 
more thoughtful from whence he drew his sup- 
plies.. 

Edward’s feeble remonstrance was met with 
laugh and jest and wine, and by the time they 


Farther Oat . 


187 


were ready to leave Lis tongue was as nimble as 
anj 7 one of them. 

“ Glad you are going to have a little diver- 
sion,” the Elder Phillips said', as he tucked in 
the robes. “ Young men must have a good 
time occasional^, I remember when I was a 
young man not so very long ago,” smiling into 
the muffled faces. 

Holmes and Sclielling were in advance. Vil- 
lage lights faded behind them, moonlight fell 
over the hills and stars glittered in the blue 
above their heads. The horses snuffed the crisp 
air and struck into a brisk trot. Edward’s 
spirits went up in proportion to the almost de- 
spair of the hour previous. The road to Stone- 
ham skirted the river, with here and there a 
band of merry skaters. 

Derwent Phillips was not oblivious, and tight- 
ening his grip upon the horses he threw himself 
back and laughed over the discomfiture of 
Fanny Stephens when she found that her 


188 


That Boy of Newlcirk's. 


brother did not return. It was the refinement 
of cruelty and he gloated over it. 

“ I can’t see what you are laughing at,” Ed- 
ward said petulantly. 

“ Couldn’t help it to see those skaters enjoy- 
ing themselves, reminded me of the sanctimoni- 
ous fellows when they get together and go down 
on their knees — feel better after it, no doubt.” 

With sensibilities deadened, Edward felt the 
sting of inward conviction only as a far off voice 
rousing feeling into irritability ; but leaving him 
helpless to respond. 

“I always thought a good deal of Fanny, 
that’s the reason, perhaps, why she does not 
speak to me.” 

“ When did you meet Fanny and she did not 
speak to you? ” demanded Edward. 

“ I did not say I met her anywhere, but I 
have been in the village several weeks and she 
lias not recognized me.” 

There was no reply. 

Stoneham was a larger place than Fern-Hill ; 


Farther Out. 


189 


the horses scented the manger and shot forward. 

Holmes was divesting himself of his wraps 
when Phillips and Stephens drove up. 

“ You must have stopped for refreshments,” 
rung out with a laugh provoking jest. 

“We did not drive at such a break-neck 
pace,” answered Derwent, “ what is the use of 
hurry ; we have the night before us.” 

“ Plere’s one that hasn’t,” Stephens called out. 
The fumes jof drink were wearing away he was 
beginning to see clearly. 

“ If the night is not . before you what is ? ” 
laughed Schelling. 

Whatever answer was made was lost in the 
boisterous talk that followed. 

“ I am as ravenous as a bear,” exclaimed 
Holmes. 

“ Just my condition,” laughed Phillips. 

Stephens said nothing. 

Supper was served quickly, wine circulated 
freely. Holmes pledged his companions; but 
his glass was barely tasted. At another time 


190 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Edward Stephens would have drawn his own 
conclusions : but now he was oblivious of deli- 
cate shades. Like a silly moth dancing too near 
the flame he was sure to be drawn in. 

The card room was the next resort. Steph- 
ens excused himself, he was but an awkward 
player. 

“ We will teach you,” smiled Holmes. “ The 
stakes will be small, we can neither of us afford 
to play heavily.” 

The money for Fanny’s last quarter wafe in 
Edward’s pocket. He . took it that very morn- 
ing for the purpose of depositing it in the bank. 
He was tempted to use it. It would look mean 
to admit that he was destitute after partaking of 
such a supper. 

The play increased in interest. Stephens 
staked and won. Again he staked and again 
won. He grew elated. The possibility was be- 
fore him of doubling Fanny’s money. 

“ I suspected as much ! no one but an old 


Farther Out. 


101 


hand could move along in this way,” said Schell- 
ing smiling over to Holmes. 

“ Never any so wise as the 4 Know-nothings,’ ” 
he answered blandly. 

Stephens staked a larger sum than he had be- 
fore dared to venture, and lost. Again his 
money covered the treacherous red spot, and 
black won.. A gray pallor settled over his face. 
Holmes was startled. Once more the stake was 
* small and Edward was successful. 

“ Enough for me ! I am going home,” he said 
in a quick, petulant tone. 

“ Going home ! ” echoed Holmes with a look 
of surprise. 

“ I have no more money to throw away.” 

“ To throw away when you have taken all the 
tricks ! ” 

“But you took the money.” 

“ Try again,” came persuasively. 

Stephens pkryed with a high hand and lost 
without seeming to realize it. It was the last 


192 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


throw. From the expression of his features one 
would have said he staked his soul. A moment 
of hesitation and the trembling fingers rested on 
the black spot. Holmes was triumphant, red 
won. 

“ Lost ! lost ! ” rung through the room. At 
the same time there was the glitter of a knife. 
Quick as thought Holmes seized the uplifted 
arm. 

All was confusion. Holmes and his aids * 
made their escape. How Edward Stephens 
reached home he never knew. 




CHAPTER XIX. 



COMING TO HIMSELF. 

A&lf^OR weeks Edward Stephens was too 
weak to rise from his bed; a burning 
fever was in his veins and his mind wandered. 
At intervals when the fever burned low he was 
conscious of the near presence of a shadowy fig- 
ure. Once he felt his hand clasped and a sweet, 
soothing influence stole over him. He slept and 
wakened, the shadowy figure was still beside 
him. Then it was dark, the lamp burned dimly, 
some one was kneeling by his pillow. He drew 
the white covering over him and shut his eyes. 

Another day another night and the picture 
grew more distinct; he remembered the drive 

i93 


194 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


and the supper, and the cards. He played and 
lost. It was Fanny’s money. Faintness crept 
over him, the room spun around like a top. 
When he opened his eyes the light fell upon the 
face he had seen in his dreams. 

“Fanny,” he whispered. 

“Eddie. You know me. Iam glad,” stoop- 
ing to kiss the white forehead. 

Too weak to talk, or even to think the poor 
youth allowed himself to be fed with a spoon. 
Then Fanny sung him to sleep as she would 
have sung to a child. 

It was several weeks before Doctor Burton 
permitted his patient to leave the sick room and 
many were the confessions made and tears shed. 

“ To think it was your money, and you do 
not hate me, Fanny.” 

“ How could I ? ” clasping the thin white 
hand and kissing the wan cheek in the old child 
fashion. 

“ If I could only undo it, Fanny. If, I could 
only go back.” 


Coming to Himself. 


195 


“ Let us remember the past only in thankful- 
ness that God heard our prayer and sent deliver- 
ance,” came tenderly. 

“ What if I had died, Fanny, and now I am 
weak and helpless.” 

“But, you are growing stronger every day. 
It will be different, you will not again forget,” 
smiling into the white earnest face. 

“ It does not seem that I ever shall.” Then 
after a pause so long Fanny thought he was to 
say no more. “ I felt so strong so well able to 
go where and with whom I pleased. It was 
this that maddened me that dreadful night. I 
heard them say how low I had fallen, and how 
you feared to have me out of your sight. I did 
not mean to go to 4 The Eagle,’ but I did mean 
to let people see that I was not as weak as 
they considered me — ” 

“ Hush dear ! Your own strength failed. 
From this time you will trust the Friend who is 
willing to be your guide. He will lead you by 


196 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


the hand over the rough places. We will go to- 
gether, Eddie.” 

“Caleb Benton used to drink more than I 
did ; lie’s given it up, and if he can, perhaps, I 
can.” 

“Not in your own strength, dear, Jesus must 
help you.” 

“Will he?” 

“ If you ask him, he will.” 

“ I seem to see things differently. I used to 
laugh when Gordon Ferril talked to us about 
drinking, and what it would lead to. I thought 
he was putting on airs. I must see him and tell 
him. Will you mind, if I see him quite by him- 
self?” 

“ You shall see him by yourself when you get 
a little stronger. You can wait patiently, can 
you not?” 

“ I want to tell him how sorry I am, and now 
I am to try to do better he must help me, as he 
helped Caleb.” 

“ He will be glad to do this. And now you 


Coming to Himself. 


197 


must rest, if you want to get strong,” Fanny 
said. 

Irish. Gracey, who came of herself to help 
Fanny during her brother’s illness brought her 
work and sat like a child listening to the prom- 
ises made to those who turn from their sins to 
seek God, her dear old heart breaking forth in 
simplicity. 

44 It is this same Bryon needs. He is a good a 
boy as was iver in the world ; but at times he 
gits beyont himself, and thin he’s sorry and sez 
he knows it’s all wrong doing. It’s this same 
he needs. Read it once more please, Miss.” 

“ 4 And, if any man sin, we have an advocate 
with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and 
he is the propitiation for our sins ; and not for 
ours only, but also for the sins of the whole 
world.’ ” 

44 It is the advocate,” interrupted Gracey , 44 me # 
father used to say, all the difference with the 
Queen, God bless her, and the lowest is this. It 
is not for one to approach her without some 


198 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


great lord to go before ; no matter how urgent 
the case the great lord is iver between the peo- 
ple and the Queen. Me father onct went to 
Windsor, Castle and this was the way of it. It 
was a proud day for me father and he niver got 
beyont blazing it.” 

A week after this, Fanny had been out to do 
some errands, smilingly she came to Eddie’s 
bedside. 

“ Do you feel strong enough to see a visitor, 
darling? ” 

“ If it is Gordon Ferril, Fanny.” 

“Let him tell you how often he has wanted 
to come,” returned Fanny, who had purposely 
left the door ajar, so that Gordon could enter 
quietly. 

“ You do not cast me off,” reaching up his 
thin hand to his visitor. 

“ Why should I ? Is there one who has not 
in the sight of God come short again and again ? 
Has he not had pity upon us and reached down 


Coming to Himself. 


199 


his hand to deliver us ? What security have we 
only as we cling to the Friend who holds a full, 
free pardon for all who ask it ? ” 

The words dropped brokenly ; as spilled 
water from a full spring. Gordon rejoiced to 
meet Edward, realizing that in his weakness he 
had grown strong ; henceforth the old appetite 
would be kept under, if not effectually over- 
come. 

Mrs. Krebbsdid not wait to be invited. 

44 I was afraid you would wait to see if my 
resolution fails me,” Edward said with rising 
color in his cheeks. 

44 When God forgives, he blots out and no 
more remembers our sins. The debt is at once 
cancelled, adopted into his family we become 
heirs with Christ.” 

Mrs. Krebbs face was full of enthusiasm, she 
had so much to say of the work done in the 
village. She did not so much talk of the past, 
as suggest for the future ; devising some plan 


200 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


for the good of others still given to ‘the habit of 
spending their time and their money at 44 The 
Eagle.” 

44 We have been reading the Bible together,” 
Fanny said, 44 there is so much to encourage and 
comfort one who is striving to live a new life. 
I think I never saw it in quite the same light I 
now see it.” 

44 Some one has said that suffering is the fire 
that separates the dross in our hearts from the 
pure gold. It is God’s winnowing process by 
which he separates the chaff from the wheat of 
the saints,” Mrs. Krebbs returned. 

Long after the visitor left the house, Edward 
kept his chair by the window, where he could 
look out on the visible creation which served to 
bring God nearer and deepen the expression of 
his everlasting love. 

44 It seems now that I shall never lose sight of 
His face,” he said to Fanny as she came with 
loving tenderness to miuister to his wants. 
44 But, will it be as easy when I am strong and 


Coming to Himself. 


201 


mingle once more with those who, knowing my 
past life, will be ready to laugh at the change ? ” 
“ You remember,” Mrs. Krebbs said “ the 
measure of God’s grace is according to our 
need,” was the quick reply. 

“ After all I must not think of myself. It is 
work now, something to do for one who has 
done so much for me,” he answered. 

It is possible Fern-Hill was more shaken by 
the marked change in Edward Stephens than it 
had been during the meetings. Caleb Benton 
was stimulated to go forward, and Frank Nesby 
fully decided to follow Christ. The Reading 
Club had fresh accessions, and questions were 
started that roused the energies of many, both 
men and women into devoted service. 



CHAPTER XX. 


A NEW ATMOSPHERE. 


YEAR passed. Fern-Hill had never 
been in as healthful a condition. The 
atmosphere free from the fumes of alcohol acted 
upon mental and spiritual forces inspiring new 
thoughts, new purposes, new life. Young men 
had the courage to resist the wine cup, and old 
men sought and found strength to flee from the 
tempter. The galling j-oke of the tiyant drink 
was broken, chains fell from the limbs of men 
who were born free ; but enslaved under the 


202 


A New Atmosphere, 


203 


power of appetite. Benton’s voice had been for 
years a source of gain for Phillips, inasmuch as 
it filled his rooms. Now it is heard in church. 
Instead of a senseless song, its melody flows 
forth in the words of some rare old hymns, per- 
suasive and tender. 

“ It is as much a miracle as the healing of the 
lame man,” exclaimed Mrs. Nesby. 

“ Or opening the eyes of the blind man,” 
added Mrs. Gleason. 

“ More like the man in the tombs,” inter- 
rupted Mrs. Strath. “It’s my opinion a man 
who takes whiskey freely is just as much under 
the influence of demoniac spirits as they were in 
Bible times.” 

Mrs. Benton looked up with a happy smile. 
“ I can’t say, if anybody was to ask me I couldn’t 
for the life of me tell. I only know it’s Heaven 
in our house. I never thought it possible : but 
it was possible and we are so completely 
happy.” 

“ I told Gleason it would be a good thing if 


204 That Boy of Newkirk's . 

he would stick to it. I haven’t much faith in 
turn-coats ; but, if a man will stick to it. Glea- 
son said he didn’t believe he could.” 

44 Helen is exercised about father, she can’t 
eat nor sleep for anxiety,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Glasse, 44 1 somehow feel, that he will not al- 
ways hold out.” 

Mrs. Krebbs crossed the hall and gave her 
hand to each of the ladies. The society was 
greatly enlarged. A plain supper was served and 
after the men, whose wives belonged to it had 
partaken they accompanied them home. This 
made it much pleasanter, and in that way might 
have a tendency to induce others to come. 

Most of the members were present ; some one 
was asking Mr. Benton to sing. Voices were 
hushed and several of the women sat quite un- 
conscious of their work. Mr. Benton chose one 
of Charles Wesley’s hymns. At the close Mr. 
Newkirk said : 

44 If, I had a voice like yours, 'Benton, I would 
preach on the street corners.” 


A New Atmosphere. 


205 


“ If, I had it to do over again I might, per- 
haps,” he answered timidly. 

“ You used to gather a crowd at 4 The Eagle.’ 
I like these hymns a good deal better than the 
old songs.” 

A happy thought brightened Mr. Benton’s 
face. 

“ Possibly I might interest as many now.” 

“ Will you do it ? ” 

“ Sing ? ” ejaculated Mr. Benton. 

“ Yes.” 

“You said preach,” with a smile. 

“ I intended to sa}% if I had a voice, I would 
sing these soul-stirring hymns on the street cor- 
ners, and leave God to fasten the nail in a sure 
place.” 

The very next night, Mr. Benton gathered 
around him such of his old associates as would 
come. 

“ Yes, yes, there’s something in it, I can’t ex- 
plain it ; but Benton was never the man to be 
blown about. He’s one Thing or the other.” 


206 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ And pretty clear, too,” echoed another. 

“ Can’t say as I believe in it, but I like to 
hear Benton sing, I always did,” broke in a 
third, “ ’twill stir up, depend upon it.” 

Without word or prayer this service of song 
fell into the heart as living seed into deep fur- 
rows ; slow in starting, perhaps, in some cases, 
but sure to spring up in the end. 

When a rich- man makes an unreserved conse- 
cration of himself and his property to Christ 
there is no limit to suggestions whereby the inter- 
est of the master may be secured and promoted. 
Up to this time, the schools in Fern-Hill had 
been chiefly for young children, the older, more 
advanced pupils being obliged, if anxious for 
farther advantages, to go from home. 

Mr. Newkirk advocated a school of a higher 
order. 

“We cannot afford to lose our young people 
especially at a time when they most need to 
have pure influences thrown around them. I 
can go over the road but once ; what I possess 


A New Atmosphere. 


20T 


is mine to use. I must have a suitable answer 
when usury is required of me.” 

This consecration" of his means was a way of 
confessing Christ, that carried conviction to 
hearts not otherwise to be moved. 

“ When a man comes with his money I think 
he is in earnest,” Mr. Glasse said. “ As boy 
or man Mr. Newkirk was never called a liberal 
soul.” 

Mr. Glasse was apparently hardened. Many 
people felt that he had passed the line of for- 
bearance, and the hand of mercy would never 
again be stretched down to save him. “The 
Eagle ” was beginning to look old ; prosperity 
seemed to have forsaken it. Phillips com- 
plained that so few of the young men came to 
see him. He was sure he had tried to make the 
house attractive to them. 


CHAPTER XXL 


STEPPING HEAVENWARD. 

morning as Edward Stephens 
the gate behind him and walks 
briskly away to his business, the neighbors nod 
to each other and say : 

“ We all thought it was such a stroke when 
he was down with that terrible fever ; but there 
he goes as handsome a young man as one cares 
to see/’ 

“ And good as he is handsome since he let 

drink alone,” adds another. 

208 



Stepping Heavenward . 


209 


“They are trying every means they can 
to make him stumble. Phillips says he is not 
one to last,” came from a little round shouldered 
man as he stood with his arms crossed over the 
gate. 

“Them the good Lord leads are in no danger 
of stumbling,” Gracey answered with a wise 
shake of her gray head. “ It isn’t now as it was. 
Edward does not depend upon himself, he does 
not venture down town leaning on his own 
crutch.” 

“ That’s a true word of some others besides 
Edward Stephens. It’s my mind there’s a good 
many who have thrown away their old crutches 
and are now willing to be led,” said the first 
speaker. 

“ Benton is one,” came quickly and somebody 
told me that Glasse was not the beast he used 
to be.” 

“Newkirk’s giving him a job on the new 
house was a good thing for Glasse,” interrupted 
another. “I’m not much for tracts and sermon- 


210 


That Boy of Newkirk’s. 


izing, it won’t help a fellow up, what he wants 
is a lift, ten to one when he’s on the level again 
he’ll not slip.” 

“ It’s not everybody knows this,” came from 
the round shouldered man lifting his elbows 
from the gate. “Some folks dress up in their 
best and then stand off at arms length and fling 
religion at you just as though they was afraid 
to come too near. That’s not the way with 
Mrs. Krebbs ; she comes right in and shakes 
hands with you and sits down and before she’s 
been there a minute you think you’ve known her 
always, and that’s why it all is.” 

“Newkirk is something so, anyway he is not 
as he was, don’t make such hard bargains as he 
used to,” was the answer. 

Gracey followed them with her gaze as they 
went down the street; then she turned to the 
kitchen and her work. With no nearer ties she 
makes her home with the Stephens and she 
knows it is the new principle in Edward’s heart, 
•that shines out in his face and gives him in- 


Stepping Heavenward. 


211 


creased comeliness. Angels are beautiful be- 
cause they are pure, and there is no true, and 
abiding beauty that is not goodness shining 
through the face and form. Bad habits are de- 
picted on the features, and a bad life not alone 
withers the soul; but the body is defrauded of 
that beauty the great Creator intended it should 
wear. 

It was a busy day for Gracey and as the sun 
rays fell in lengthwise lines over the kitchen 
floor, she brushed back her gray hair, put on a 
clean apron and took her knitting. 

White clouds flush crimson, the sky line to- 
wards the west glows like molten gold. The 
hills are veiled with pink and pearl ; village roofs 
and spires glitter and the evening air is filled 
with the odor of flowers. At length the busy fin- 
gers slacken and the gray head bends over the 
clasped hands. Gracey is thinking of the old 
days when her darlings were in her arms and 
clutching at her gown. Teddy and Moll and 
Kirk went to sleep early ; one is over the sea 


212 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


and Bryon is a little, “just a little unsteady in 
liis ways.” How the mother’s heart goes out 
after her boy. “ He will give it all up, shure and 
he will,” she often says to Fanny, now she is 
thinking and praying that the time may come. 
Her head falls lower, she is, praying “ Hoty 
Father bring him back to the fold.” It is sim- 
ple asking ; but Gracey knows that he will do 
it, he did it for Edward — . The knitting goes 
on, the anxious look in Gracey’s eyes has given 
place to sweet expectancy. They are at the 
gate, Edward and Fanny. The supper table is 
neatly laid, the dishes are appetizing. A large 
letter lays by Gracey’s plate, her old Irish heart 
throbs with a quicker beat. “ I thought as 
much and now I have news,” letting her hands 
clasp over it. 

Edward sends up his cup the second time. 
“ I can tell you some news dear,” to Fanny. 

“What is it?” she asks. 

“ Mrs. Ferril is coming to Fern-Hill.” 


Stepping Heavenward . 


218 


“ Then she will make us a visit.” 

“ Probably.” 

“ As a matter of course j^ou must invite her to 
make her home with us,” urged Fanny. 

“She will no doubt prefer her own house,” he 
answered with most provoking coolness. 

“Ido not comprehend,” said Fanny with a 
grave face. 

“ Only this, Mrs. Ferril is to make her home 
at Fern-Hill, provided Gordon accepts of an 
honorable position offered him in the First Na- 
tional Bank.” 

“ This will be pleasant, I trust he will,” an- 
swered Fanny. 

“ He is a little perplexed about it, said he 
would call this evening,” Edward said as he rose 
from the table and walked over to the window. 

Later, as the friends sat on the verandah in the 
white moonlight, Gordon said in reference to the 
offer made him, “I fear to assume so responsible 
a position as is now offered me, but circumstan- 


214 


That Boy of NewJcirJc's. 


ces have made ifc necessary for me to bear heavy 
burdens early in life, and experience thus gained 
counts for something.” 

“ If you were free to choose would this be your 
choice ? ” Caleb asked. 

“ There was a time when I wished to study a 
profession, my tastes were in that direction,” he 
replied with a certain repression. “ But the 
time it would require and the expense were in- 
superable obstacles. My father left a small 
home with no income. I was his representa- 
tive ; from that moment I resolved to be a busi- 
ness man.” 

“ Preaching by proxy,” smiled Fanny. “ It is 
quite as needful to fill the church treasury, as it 
is to speak from the pulpit. It is all one 
work.” 

“Just as the church consists of many mem- 
bers; but one body. When we fully realize 
that money is a power in itself, and a talent for 
which we must give account, the glory of God in 


Stepping Heavenward. 215 

the world will shine more brightly,” was the an- 
swer. 

Edward was an appreciative listener. At 
length lie said looking to Fanny with grateful 
love in his eyes : 

“ Gracey has an original way of putting 
things. Last night she said ‘ that often our dis- 
contents are the better portion of our life. 
Prosperity is unfavorable to Christian growth. 
Give me adversity for profit.’ I am sure Fanny 
the joy we feel to-night would not have been 
ours ; but for trouble too heavy for either of us 
to have borne alone.” 

Into this quiet gathering, Mrs. March and 
Alice came. 

“ You see we could not wait,” Alice said to 
Gordon, “ we desire so much to know what your 
mother thinks of the plan.” 

With the expression on his face that so well 
become him Gordon answered : 

“She leaves it with me, and I am inclined to 


216 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


accept the position. What renders it still more 
desirable is, that the salary is sufficient for us all 
to live together.” 

Mrs. March made known her gladness in a 
pretty, simple way : 

“With new families coming in, it is pleasant 
to know that a portion of them are active Chris- 
tians. The fields are wanting reapers.” 

Alice spoke of Susie and May. 

“ The prettiest girls you ever saw,” remarked 
Caleb with heightened color. 

“ I will not anticipate,” laughed Alice. 

With so much of playfulness, Fanny forgot 
that she had known other days. The cold, the 
blight, with hardly strength to raise her hands 
in supplication ; watching with anxiety that 
never slept ; sacrificing every pleasure of her 
young girlhood ; and still all unable to influence 
her brother aright. 

“ What a beautiful thought it is that we all 
have a place and a work,” said Mrs. March. 
“In the world there are positions of trust and of 


Stepping Heavenward . 217 

honor, in God’s great plan every post is an hon- 
orable one.” 

“But oftentimes we are ready to cry out 
against the place and murmer that another was 
not assigned us,” rejoined Caleb. 

“Forgetful that it may be only a stepping 
stone to something beyond more in keeping with 
individual taste and inclination. It is not the 
place, neither the work; but the faithful dis- 
charge of duty,” returned Mrs. March. 

Alice and Fanny talked of the new school and 
the advantage in a social point of view. 

“ I shall not leave the children,” Alice said. 
“ The larger my experience the more I am per- 
suaded that with the foundation well laid char- 
acter is readily built upon it.” 

“ That brings to mind the expression of the 
Corn law rt^mes, 4 Let me make the songs for 
the children and I care not who makes the laws,’ 
remarked Mrs. March. 

“But you consider it correct do you not?” 
questioned Fanny. 


218 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


“ I tremble when I think how much the creat- 
ures of habit we are, and still how careless we 
are in forming habits ; channels of thought deep- 
ening each day, beautiful and clear as the moun- 
tain rill ; or otherwise rash and impetuous like 
the rushing river sweeping all before it,” inter- 
rupted Edward. 

“It is not impossible but such an one will 
change ; but the chances are against him,” re- 
turned Mrs. March. 

“ Unless it is a miracle,” rejoined Edward 
thinking of the old life. 

“ It is said that this is not the age of miracles,” 
Caleb responded. To me the miracle Jesus 
wrought at the pool of Bethesda was not more a 
miracle than taking away the old heart that has 
thus far scoffed at God and giving one a new 
heart filled with love for God and souls,” ex- 
claimed Caleb. 

“ Are you thinking of your father ? ” Mrs. 
March asked. 


Stepping Heavenward. 


219 


“ Yes, father is a new man, I do not consider 
that any one will deny this.” 

“I think I can now comprehend what it is to 
mount up with wings as eagles,” said Gordon as 
he walked home with Mrs. March and Alice. 
“ The trust and hope in God bearing the soul up 
above the troubles of life.” 

“I thonght of it as I looked at Fanny,” Alice 
said. “ What a beautifier sorrow is when it 
brings the soul into the inner circle of God’s In- 
finite love.” 




CHAPTER XXII. 



A NEW ENTEEPEISE. 

R. NEWKIRK exhibited as much energy 
in spending his money as he had done 
in accumulating it. The school building was 
barely completed before he had another project. 
Looking through the new rooms with Mrs. 
March he said : 

“Going to the ‘Bend’ the other morning the 
question came to me. ‘ Where can these poor 
fellows go ? ’ Many of them are without homes 
of their own, without companions, save when 
they meet to drink and play. We tell them not 
to go to the saloon — beg them not to drink and 


220 


A New Enterprise . 


221 


above all to give up cards. Our words are idle, 
so long as we fail to provide something better. 
"VYe must have an ample hall and a good li- 
brary.” 

The plan met the approbation of Mrs. March; 
she felt that in this work she had a share. The 
love of doing good was growing upon her. 
Many a day after having been busily engaged in 
caring for those who had less of worldly good, 
she went to her chamber with a sense of rest 
never known in the old days of silent, selfish 
grieving. 

“ Gleason has two boys, from all that I have 
heard, I judge that their home is anything but 
pleasant,” Mr. Newkirk said, his thoughts still 
going out after the unfortunates. 

“ Mrs. Gleason used to meet with us, it is 
possible we have not followed her up, as we 
should have done,” she answered. 

“ Gleason is savage when he has been drink- 
ing. I can imagine what a state they are in,” 
was the response. 


222 


That Boy of J\ T ewJcirJc’s. 


“ I sometimes feel that as a society the more 
we try to do good, the more evil is stirred up,” 
Mrs. March returned. 

“ I judge this has always been the case,” 
smiled Mr. Newkirk. “Phillips feels that his 
business has been encroached upon, with fewer 
men to drink, his gains are sensibly diminished. 
Only the power of God can bring him to view 
these things in a different light.” 

“'Let his anger mount as it will he cannot hin- 
der our prayers.” 

Mrs. March spoke with feeling. Phillips was 
a sore evil to her; but she could pray for him. 

The hills were touched with dusky gold ; 
stars came out, and village lights quivered. 
Voices of young girls came up from the arbor. 
Fanny stopped to say : 

“To-morrow will be Sunday, we have decided 
to make a list of all the homeless young men we 
know, and invite one or more of them to dinner. 
Carl Ringland is first on the list.” 

“ That is an admirable plan, and if you 


A New Enterprise . 


223 


please,” Mr. Newkirk said to his sister, “ vve will 
adopt the same course.” 

“Gordon told me it was a rule with his 
mother, and with Mrs. Noble to lay a plate for a 
stranger whom they were sure to find each Sab- 
bath,” returned Mrs. March. 

Alice saw her friends to the gate and there 
met Mrs. Gleason. 

“ If your mother is disengaged, I will go right 
in,” was said in a neighborly way. 

“ You will find her in the parlor.” 

As Mrs. March came forward to receive her 
visitor, the latter broke down and wept like a 
child. 

“ Do not hesitate to tell me,” said Mrs. March 
prepared for intelligence that would make her 
heart ache for the poor woman. 

“ Gleason has been and done it, and I all the 
time complaining, I can’t bear myself.” 

“ What has Mr. Gleason done, I hardly under- 
stand you,” said Mrs. March. 

“ It is a week since he signed the Pledge and 


224 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


God has kept him, and the boys are overjoyed, 
and I am just broke up, I can do nothing but 
cry.” 

“Do not be troubled, dear friend, Jesus knows 
just how you feel. His sympathy is sweeter 
than human friendship can bestow. Rest in him 
confident that the good work he has begun he 
will carry forward.” 

“If, I had known it, I shouldn’t have been as 
hard oftentimes ; but father tried me with his 
wa} r s, and 4 The Eagle ’ was pleasanter than 
home to him,” breaking down again and hiding 
her face in her apron. 

“ Jesus seeks us. Turning away from him his 
voice calls after us : 4 Come unto me.’ 4 Ask — 
whatsoever ye will.’ 4 Rest — I will bear your 
burdens,’ was ever friend so tender ? ” 

44 1 couldn’t believe it was for me. It did 
seem as though father never would stop and I 
just give up,” said the still weeping woman. 

From a full supply Mrs. March’s words fell 


A New Enterprise. 


225 


like drops of balsam and oil into the lacerated 
heart. With so much gladness there was no 
room for formality. Here was another soul to 
recognize the loving forbearance of Jesus. The 
sources of discord and wretchedness had been 
dried up, and the fountains of peace and joy had 
begun to pour their full tide of blessedness into 
the bosom of another family. 

Mr. Newkirk and Mrs. March seldom spent 
an evening alone. Now an architect came with 
his plan, or a mechanic for more minute instruc- 
tions, or friends like Mr. and Mrs. Krebbs 
dropped in socially. 

Mrs. Gleason caught the sound of voices and 
rose up quickly. 

“ My heart was that full, I wanted to tell yon, 
and Gleason is to go to church, and if it’s not 
amiss he wants to tell the people. He’s not 
much given to speaking ; but he can tell the 
story, and everybody knows how it was with 


him.” 


226 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ It will be right, and we are glad to know 
that he is willing to bear testimony for Christ,” 
returned Mrs. March. 

“ I will tell him this,” said the woman with a 
brighter countenance. 






CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE LAW AND THE TESTIMONY. 



FALCON did not join issues with the 
people of God ; neither did he cry out 
against the spread of religious truth in the com- 
munity. Resting upon his morality he surveyed 
one with calm indifference ; the other with con- 
tempt. True, the change in Caleb Benton led 
him to question ; but this questioning culmina- 
ted in certain psychological influences brought 
to bear upon him through association with Gor- 
don Ferril. Edward Stephens, he said was ill 

227 


228 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


long enough to find that he could live without 
drink, and as a matter of course, when he recov- 
ered did not again fall into the old habit. Even 
Benton met with no change, that could not be 
ascribed to social influences. 

Mrs. Falcon was not a paying woman ; but 
she esteemed Mrs March. Besides, it was 
wholly respectable to go to church in the morn- 
ing and just as respectable to have her husband 
go with her; but neither went to the prayer- 
meeting. Sitting under the sound of the Gospel 
Sabbath after Sabbath Mr. Falcon understood 
the nature of God’s broken law ; but he did not 
realize that he had any part in it ; neither did 
he feel the sweet assurance that Christ, assum- 
ing his debt had paid the penalty on the cross, 
thus freeing him, provided he would receive the 
gift. 

At the close of the morning service just as the 
occupants of the richly cushioned pew were 
leaving, there was a visible commotion in the 
apdience and immediately Mrs. Falcon’s eyes 


The Law and the Testimony . 


229 


were caught by the singular expression of a face 
familiar ; but never before seen in church. 

It was Mr. Gleason. Permission having been 
given him to speak, curiosity impelled the few 
who were about leaving to resume their seats. 
Mr. Falcon was a man never to lose sight of ap- 
pearances. Hence many considered him and 
spoke of him as a religious man. He was con- 
scious that this had its weight with certain 
classes. Pie felt pretty sure that his gains (take 
the year round) were sensibly increased by thus 
being placed on the list of honest men. It 
rather pleased him than otherwise. Mr. Glea- 
son began with trembling hesitation to tell what 
God, for Christ’s sake, had done for hi3 soul. 

“ Yes, friends you know my life, and how I 
have gone from one evil course to another ; but 
you do not know the terrible struggle in my own 
heart, the torture, the despair, the voice of con- 
science crying out against my practice, my own 
sinful nature goading me on to the gratification 
of my appetite at the expense of my soul. 


230 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


Then blind with passion, I challenged God to 
help me, if he could. As I think of it, it makes 
me shudder. What if God m his anger had 
struck me down ! I deserved it. I despised 
and derided him. Still he did not leave me. T 
had forfeited all claim upon him, yet he did not 
condemn me ; but followed me with loving kind- 
ness — at last wretched, miserable as I was, I 
cried for help, 6 Lord save or I perish!’ It 
was the first earnest cry from my heart and God 
had pity. 

“Without a reproachful glance He came to me, 
bound up my wounds with myrrh and spices and 
set my feet on a rock. This sudden illumina- 
tion filled my soul with awe and reverence. I 
had only to say, ‘Spare me to make known the 
wonderous love thou hast shown in coming to 
the rescue of one so steeped in sin.’ ” 

Pausing a moment and looking over the audi- 
ence he continued : 

“ Is there one here who thinks the way diffi- 
cult? one who turning from the broad road 


The Law and the Testimony, 231 

would find Jesus? His countenance beams with 
love. Are there not some here who know what 
it is to have a debt hanging over them ; a debt 
which, if not paid, must beggar them, and still 
all unable to discharge it ? What happiness for 
such a man until the debt is paid ? Not a soul 
living but is indebted to God. Owing all, we 
could pay nothing. Christ came and his shed 
blood passes over the account. Henceforth 
there is no claim against us, the blood of Christ 
has passed over it, blurred and blotted with sin, 
the page is white as snow. Christ has paid the 
debt. This has been done for me. Has he 
done this for you ? Have you asked him to can- 
cel your debt ? ” 

Mr. Gleason sat down overcome with his feel- 
ings, several of his audience were in tears. Mr. 
Falcon tried to look indifferent, but politeness 
failed to conceal the expression of contempt as 
he went down the aisle. , 

“I just feel as though I were living in New 
Testament times,” said a tall, pale woman with 


232 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


a babe in her arms. “Not many of the rich 
came to Jesus ; it was the lame, the blind and 
the dumb who sought to be healed.” 

“I have sometimes thought the poor held all 
the promises. One rich man was told to go and 
sell all that he had, and then come and follow 
Jesus. He went away sorrowful for he had 
great possessions,” answered a white haired man 
as he leaned heavily on his cane. 

“ There is no denying, Gleason was a hard 
case,” exclaimed one. 

“Caleb Benton was of no account until Gor- 
don Ferril took him up. It was close work for 
a time. I didn’t know which would lead,” said 
another. 

“ It never seemed to me that Gordon Ferril 
had anything to overcome,” thrust in a young 
man, who had been a listener. 

“ When the Spirit of Christ reigns in the 
heart, Christian influence and good deeds are 
not spasmodic ; but the natural expression of the 
life, whoever comes within the power and scope 


The Law and the Testimony. 


090 
O 

of such influences, must be moved more or less 
by it,” answered Mrs. Krebbs who was now 
come up. 

“ Gleason is too old a man to change much. 
I can see how Caleb Benton is to lead a new 
life ; but with this man it is different,” observed 
the same young man. 

44 How different ? ” Mrs. Krebbs asked. 

44 There is nothing he can do.” 

44 You make a mistake here,” said Mrs. Krebbs 
raising her eyes. 

44 The Christian cannot expel disease, but he 
can soften pain by kindness. He cannot raise 
the dead to life ; but he can refresh the faith of 
the sorrowing in Him who is the resurrection 
and the life. He cannot feed the hungry with 
miraculous loaves: but he can go to the villages 
and buy, that they may eat. He cannot cause 
the blind to see ; but he can lend his hand to 
aid them. He cannot make the lame to walk ; 
but he can smooth the path before them. He 
cannot loose the dumb tongue ; but he can 


234 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


preach the gospel to the poor. He can make 
known the love and tenderness of Christ for 
poor crushed, bleeding humanity.” 

“ Will it not take years to overcome habit?” 
asked the young man. 

“ Once willing to follow Christ and strength 
is given to overcome,” was the answer. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING. 

BENTON was developing rare 
musical ability. As the winter set in 
Mr. Benton was invited to sing in the Reading- 
room, and thus the crowd who gathered at the 
street corners was gradually led into the atmos- 
phere of books and religious instruction. Many 
of the men actively employed through the day 
had but little time to read consecutively ; but all 
were able to catch a word, or a paragraph, and 

235 


23 G 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


sure to be influenced by the hymns they heard. 
Madge accompanied her father, and after Mrs. 
Ferril came, Susie and May brought culture and 
practice which they gave freely. 

The moral atmosphere of Fern-Hill was health- 
ier. Whenever men congregated, speech was 
freer from slang ; while coarse jests, and dishon- 
oring oaths were seldom heard. Whatever 
Phillips thought of this new order of things, he 
ceased to rail at it. Some said that he was 
waiting reaction consequent upon an outburst of 
religious enthusiasm, others that under a quiet 
exterior he was plotting mischief. As long as 
Falcon was left he could not lose hope. 

Not satisfied with opportunities lying at his 
door, Mr. Newkirk employed a night teacher for 
the boys at “ The Bend ” boys who could not go 
to school any portion of the day, and were not 
of themselves, disposed to enter upon a course 
that would lead to anything better. 

To win this class Alice March taught an hour 
every night, taking pains to make herself attrac- 


An Unexpected Meeting. 


237 


tive ; hanging pictures on the wall and arrang- 
ing flowers in a way to catch their eyes, and not 
unfrequently going back to her mother with sur- 
prise and merriment over their original sayings 
and unstudied expressions of admiration and 
genuine delight. 

“ There is more hope of this class,” Mrs. 
Krebbs said. “ They have less to undo ; habit 
will not cling to them with the same tenacity.” 

Fanny Stephens was a teacher in the new 
school and Edward was giving himself to busi- 
ness, resolved, if possible, to make amends for 
misspent time. 

After the duties of the day, Caleb Benton, 
Frank Nesby and Edward not unfrequently 
called upon Gordon Ferril at the bank, thus 
keeping up a friendly intercourse, a pleasure in 
itself and a safeguard from temptation without. 

“ Are you not afraid to sleep here ? ” Caleb 
asked one night, as he gazed upon the strong 
walls and barred windows. 

“ I do not usually sleep here ; but the watch- 


238 


That Boy of Neivkirk's. 


man is sick to-night, and I told him I would 
take his place.” 

“ There is not much danger where Jeff is,” 
laughed Frank alluding to a fine watch dog that 
belonged to the sick man. 

“Jeff stays of course ; a regular bank direc- 
tor,” answered Gordon lightly. 

Soon after this the young men left. Gordon 
saw them out by the private entrace. The 
night was dark with evident signs of a storm. 
Caleb said good night and started, .when a hun- 
dred yards from the building he stopped. 

“ I don’t quite like to leave Gordon alone to- 
night,” he said to his friends. “ It is not doing 
just as I would like him to do by me ; there is 
no danger of disturbance, but it is new to him to 
sleep in this way.” 

After a short conference ending by Caleb’s 
asking Edward to stop and tell his father that 
he would sleep at the bank, the friends parted. 

Gordon had stopped to talk with Jeff, and 


An Unexpected Meeting. 239 

was thus sufficiently near the door to hear his 
name called. 

“I didn’t quite like to leave you alone to- 
night so came back. Own up now, wasn’t you 
beginning to see sights ? ” Caleb asked. 

“You forget that I have the same watchful 
care over me here as elsewhere,” returned Gor- 
don looking pleasantly into the face of his 
friend. 

“ I know ; but you are not accustomed to this 
solitude.” 

With their arms linked, the young men 
walked up-stairs. J eff followed and was not re- 
pulsed. 

“ It reminded me of the old days,” said Gor- 
don ; “ the first time we slept together.” 

“ I often think of it Gordon. If it had not 
been for that visit to your mother’s house. I 
believe I should have made one of the worst 
fellows in the world?” 

“ And now you are one of the best,” returned 
Gordon with genuine tenderness. 


240 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


“ Whatever I am, I owe under God to you. 
Do you wonder that I could not leave you by 
yourself to-night ? ” 

The rain came gently tapping at the case- 
ment. Jeff stretched himself and laid his strong 
muzzle over his fore paws. In keeping with his 
custom Gordon read a psalm ; then a few verses 
from the Evangelist and kneeled in prayer, with 
a feeling of security only known to those who 

trust in the love and care of an Infinite Father. 
» 

They slept, — how long Gordon did not question. 
It was 3~et dark and the rain was falling. He 
sat up in bed and listened ; there was no mis- 
take, some one was trying the barred door. 
Without noise he turned on the light. Jeff al- 
ready comprehended danger. Before the watch- 
man went home he took the precaution to bring 
a couple of short rifles into Gordon’s room. 
Waking Caleb, Gordon briefly explained the sit- 
uation. * 

“ I cannot discover how many there are, we 


An Unexpected Meeting. 241 

do not want to kill, only disable,” handing down 
the rifles at the same time. 

“Iam ready, where is Jeff?” Caleb whis- 
pered. 

“Jeff knows his duty as well as we know 
ours,” was the answer. 

All this occupied but few minutes, mean- 
time the robbers were at work. Opening the 
door cautiously words came floating up to 
them. 

“ I was sure of it, the dog is not here, well 
for us that Travers was sick. No hurry. Let’s 
make a clean thing of it, and nobody the 
wiser.” 

The voice was muffled. 

With a movement that Jeff understood Gor- 
don and Caleb crept noiselessly down-stairs and 
came suddenly upon two men in masks. The safe 
was already open. They were lifting packages of 
money and gloating over them. 

“Seize him ! ” cried Gordon, at the same time 


242 


That Boy of Newkirk's. 


he gave one of the robbers a blow with the butt of 
his rifle. Jeff held the other by the throat. 

“ Call off the dog quick ! He is choking 
me to death,” said the man as well as he was 
able. 

44 Lie down and make no attempt to move and 
he will not harm you,” Gordon answered. 

Satisfied there were but two, Caleb searched 
for whatever weapons they might have on their 
persons ; while Gordon partly opened the mask 
and dashing cold water over the face of the 
prostrate man had the satisfaction of seeing 
him revive. Finding his pistols gone a volley of 
oaths sounded through the room. 

44 Be quiet sir, if you would escape a quick 
death,” Gordon said resolutely. 

Day dawned, and with it a spectacle that 
touched men’s hearts and made them dumb. 
Stretched on the floor one of the robbers lay 
with Jeff’s paws planted on his breast, while Gor- 
don and Caleb sat with revolvers in their hands 



“ Jeff.” — Page 242 




































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. 

























































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An Unexpected Meeting . 


243 


ready at the least movement of their cap- 
tives. 

Removing the masks and the paint the bur- 
glars were found to be old acquaintances, Wil- 
lard Holmes and Derwent Phillips. 





CHAPTER XXV. 


CONCLUSION. 



ILLARD HOLMES was an old offender. 


To know that he was hooked for the 


Penitentiary sent a feeling of security through- 
out the community such as had not been felt since 
Edward Stephens, entanglement with him. Der- 
went Phillips was younger. The fault with him 
was not so much a corrupt nature ; as it was 
the inevitable result of ill chosen associates. 


244 


Conclusion . 


245 


Induced to drink he was easily led into crime. 
Phillips was visibly moved, for Derwent had al- 
ways been a favorite with him. Still, proof was 
positive, and the law must be executed. 

Mr. Krebbs visited the prisoners. Holmes 
was bitter. Derwent had assured him the dog 
was not there. Not a shade of penitence for 
the crime. Derwent was quite broken. It 
was the first time he had gone as far ; money 
could not buy him off ; although his uncle 
would have beggared himself to shield him. It 
was a sad day when the officers drove out 
of the village with their charge ; the elder for a 
term of years, the younger with but few 
months : but alike fated to wear the dishonor. 

In a world of temptation and crime, what se- 
curity is there but in Christ? Never was the 
contrast more forcibly felt and seen than in the 
case of Gordon Ferril and Derwent Phillips. 
In his childhood Gordon gave himself to God to 
be taught and be led by him. Through his in- 
fluence several of his companions had come to 


246 


That Boy of Newkirk's, 


Christ. Willard Holmes was a leading spirit. 
He was the son of parents who had given him 
every opportunity of improvement. His man- 
ner was faultless, his appearance winning ; but 
he was destitute of principle. Restless, unsta- 
ble like a ship at sea he had been tossed by the 
wind of passion without compass or anchor. 

Fern-Hill is no longer a small village ; but a 
town of wide spread influences. Mr. Newkirk 
sleeps with his kindred in the quiet church 
yard ; but the institutions he founded and pro- 
vided for, stand as beacons to point the youth of 
our land to the fountain of wisdom and honor, 
namely, Christ. 

A successful business man Edward Stephens 
is doing effective work in the church. Caleb 
Benton is a pastor beloved by all who know 
him. For two years Gordon Ferril has taken 
his seat in the halls of legislation, a man of 
tried worth and integrity, whom the people de- 
light to honor. 


Conclusion. 


247 


“ Blessed is the man that walketli not in the 
counsel of the ungodly ; nor standeth in the 
way of sinners nor sitteth in the seat of the 
scornful.” 

“ For the Lord knoweth the way of -the right- 
eous ; but the way of the ungodly shall perish.” 


THE END. 














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mother’s work-basket, always at hand, to be taken up in a 
tender moment. It also contains many poems to be read 
aloud in the twilight hour when the children gather around 
mother’s knee. Of its literary excellence it is needless to 
speak as Mrs. Piatt stands at the head of American women 
poets. 


Links in Rebecca’s Life. By “ Pansy.” Price, $1.50. 
Boston: D. Lotlirop & Co. 

“Pansy” has no rival as an author of the best class of 
Sunday-school books. Her “Ester Ried” and “Chautauqua 
Girls ” series are models in that important line of literature. 
Her new book, “ Links in Rebecca’s Life,” is worthy of a 
place in the same list. This book is an admirable one. Its 
tone is healthy and stimulating, without a trace of senti- 
mentalism or cant: and its characters are thoroughly natu- 
ral, such as any reader can recognize in the community in 
which be happens to live. The heroine, Rebecca, is intense- 
ly human, with a noble nature in which many weaknesses 
hide themselves and come often to the surface. But she is 
a Christian of the best type, and her aspirations and hard- 
fought battles inspire enthusiasm in a reader. The Com- 
mittee on International Lessons couldn’t do a better thing 
than to circulate this book in every part of the land. It 
shows how the lessons may be made helpful in the daily 
life, and how the Old Testament may be taught with in- 
terest to an Infant School, or to men and women of every 
congregation. 

Echoing and Re-echoing. By Faye Huntington . Price 
$1.50. Boston: D. Lothrop <fc Co., publishers. 

It shows great ignorance of the Sunday-school literature 
of our day, when one calls it weak and namby-stuff, with an 
equal mixture of love-stories, and impossible adventures. 
The censure is just for a certain class of books, but a large 
library may be gathered of first-class works admirable alike 
in moral tone and in literary execution, books which every- 
body can read with delight and profit. “Echoing and Re- 
echoing” is a book of this sort, a well-told story, abounding 
with practical lessons, and inciting to a noble Christian life. 
The most intelligent opponent of religious novels will find 
his prejudices giving way in reading it, and a fastidious lit- 
erary reader will be thankful that children have such good 
books for moulding their literary tastes. 


THE CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME.— 

By Pansy. Author of “ Four Girls at Chautauqua,,” &c. 
Boston: D. Lothkop & Co. Price, $1.50. 

The four brilliant young ladies, three from the highest 
social ranks, and one a teacher with infidel tendencies, wlio, 
having abandoned Newport and Saratoga for Chautauqua 
Lake and its Sunday-school Assembly, were there converted, 
and, having returned to their city homes, with their simple 
faith and joyous experience, they enter the First Church, 
seeking Christian help and a field for usefulness. Hesi- 
tatingly they enter the Sunday-school. Their presence there 
is almost resented by pastor and superintendent, who knew 
of their former lives of social vaporing, but did not know of 
their conversion. The rebuff does not wholly dishearten 
the young ladies. They go to the social meetings, where 
their persistent attendance brings about an explanation. 
They confess Christ, are received into the Church, enter 
into its work with zeal, and by their efforts and influence 
remodel the Sunday-school, stir up the social meetings, and 
help to bring about a great revival. 

These young ladies in their developing lives represent four 
classes of Christians, with which every pastor has to deal, 
and from studying these models pastors can learn helpful 
lessons, for they are here depicted with a masterly skill. 
The First Church is a representative dead Church. The de- 
cayed members and the cause of death are pointed out. The 
question of social amusements for Christians is discussed 
and answered from the Bible. The Sunday-school is dull 
and inefficiently managed. How to improve it and make it 
a success is indicated in a practical way. In short, the 
whole case of spiritually dead Churches is diagnosticated 
with the wisdom of a practical physician, and the revivify- 
ing remedies prescribed. Pastors, superintendents, teachers, 
Christians, young and old, should read this book. It con- 
tains help for all. “ Pansy” has written nothing better 
— JV. Y. Christian Advocate . 


THE NAME ABOVE EVERY NAME. In sending forth a 

new and revised edition of this work the Publishers append a few of tbt 
many favorable notices which, from various sources, testify to its 
catholicity, and its adaptation to the wants of the disciples of our Lori 
by whatever denominational name they may be called. 

The Name above Every Name, or, Devotional Meditations. 

With a text for every day in the year. By the Rev. Samuel Cutler . 

This little volume, which is a gem of typography, is just what it claims 
to be — “devotional and practical.* The pure gold of the gospel is here 
without the base alloy of man’s wisdom. It accords with the teachings 
of the divine Spirit, and tends to exalt in the souls of men the Christ of 
God. 

The texts are fitly chosen, and the exquisite fragments of sacred poetry 
seem like jewels from a mine of inspiration. None can read this book 
devoutly without being benefited ; and all who read it in the spirit in which 
it appears to have been written, will lay down the volume with higher 
views of Christ’s nature, and of His work, and reverently acknowledge that 
if His name be above every name in dignity and glory, it is also, as de- 
clared in the inspired canticle, “as ointment poured forth’’ in its heavenly 
fragrance . — Parish V isitor. 

From the Congregationist. 

The Name above Every Name, it has a chapter for every 
week in the year, each chapter preceded with appropriate passages from 
Scripture and closing with a choice selection from devotional poetry. The 
whole book is eminently evangelical, and fitted to foster the growth of 
true and genuine piety in the soul. 

The Name above Every Name. By the Rev. Samuel 

Cutler . This has been carefully prepared by its author. The texts are 
for every day in the year, and have reference to the Scriptural titles of 
our Lord. The devotional and practical meditations are for every week in 
the year. The appendix contains five hundred and twenty five titles of 
our Lord, with the Scriptual reference; also a topical and alphabetical list 
of the titles, and of first lines of poetry with the author’s name. 

The work is exceedingly valuable, not only for its meditations, but for 
the great amount of information which it contains. It is a book which 
the Christian would do well always to have at hand. Evagelical Knowl- 
edge Society. 

Xhe volume is a precious vade mecum, for all who love the “ Name that 
is above every name ” — Protestant Churchman. 

Plain Edition $1.00 Full Gilt $1.50 Red line Edition $ 2.00 

D. Lothrop & Co., Publishers, Boston, 


I 


BOOKS FOB -X-OTT2T<3- HEROES A^HSTID BBAVE 
WOBKEBS. 

VIRGINIA. By W. H. G. Kingston. 16 mo. 

Illustrated 25 

A stirring story of adventure upon sea and land. 

AFRICAN ADVENTURE AND ADVENT- 
URERS. By Rev. G. T. Day, D. D. 16 
mo. Illustrated . . . . - . 1 50 

The stories of Speke, Grant, Baker, Livingstone and Stanley 
are put into simple shape for the entertainment of young readers. 

NOBLE WORKERS. Edited by S. F. Smith, 

D. D. i6mo 1 50 

STORIES OF SUCCESS. Edited by S. F 

Smith , D. D. i6mo . . . . . 1 50 

Inspiring biographies and records which leave a most whole- 
some and enduring effect upon the reader. 

MYTHS AND HEROES. 16 mo. Illus- 
trated. Edited by S. F. Smith, D. D . . 150 

KNIGHTS AND SEA KINGS. Edited by 

S. F. Smith, D. D. i2mo. Illustrated . 1 50 

Two entertaining books, which will fasten forever the historical 
and geographical lessons of the school-room firmly in the stu- 
dent’s mind. 

CHAPLIN’S LIFE OF BENJAMIN FRANK- 
LIN. i6mo. Illustrated . . . . 1 50 

LIFE OF AMOS LAWRENCE. i 2 mo. 111 . 150 

Two biographies of perennial value. No worthier books were 
ever offered as holiday presents for our American young men. 

WALTER NEAL’S EXAMPLE. By Rev. 

Theron Brown. 16 mo. Illustrated . .125 

Walter Neal’s Example is by Rev. Theron Brown, the editor of 
that very successful paper, The Youth's Companion. The story 
is a touching one, and is in parts so vivid as to seem drawn from 
the life. — N. Y. Independent. 

TWO FORTUNE-SEEKERS. Stories by 
Rossiter Johnson, Louise Chandler Moulton , 

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